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Class _Ei: 
Book -(./ 



COPyRIGHT DEPOSm 



History 

of the 

Minisink Country 



1^ 



by 
Horace E. Twichell 



u 



Copyright July, 1912 

by 

Horace E. Twichell, Port Jervis, N. Y. 



Printed by The Schilling Press 
U7-U9 East 25th Street, New York 



£CI.A319274 



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BelJtcation 

Bp&tratpi» tn tijr iEpmarg of \^t Urattp 
Oliilnnpl ©uHtPtt, uil^n Ml in tijp brfptia? 
oi l|t0 mnuniipb rnmjiantnnH, at l|nflpttal 
Sork, in tljp lattlp af JMiniaink. 3nla 
twrntg-arrnn&, arwrntprn l^nnliirrb anil 
Bpnrntg nint. 



INTRODUCTORY 



In sending out this "History of the Minisink Coun- 
try," the author desires not only to preserve to posterity 
annals of the forgotten past, but to stimulate coming 
generations to a greater love of country, a more ardent 
devotion to duty, and a more earnest zeal toward the 
promotion of true Christian character. 

Our forefathers, by their struggles, privations and 
tears, have left us a great and glorious heritage — this 
land of freedom. 

Let us stand with nerves of steel in defense of our 
blood-bought privileges and consecrate our lives to the 
Almighty whose powerful arm has preserved us a free 
nation. 

Let us teach our children to honor the flag that this 
day floats over and unites a happy and prosperous 
people. 

I trust that many of my readers, especially those who 
have borne the "heat and burden of the day," will find 
in the perusal of these pages a stimulus to greater en- 
ergy in the battle of life and an impetus to higher and 
nobler living. 

May the revival of these reminiscences illuminate the 
pathway of the future and brighten the hope of immor- 
tality. 

Horace Edgar Twichell. 

Port Jervis, N. Y. 



SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS 



CHAPTER I. 



Earliest Minisink Record, 1659 — Capt. Arent Schuyler's 
Visit, 1694 — Copy of Journal — Historical Address of Dr. 
Mills — Early Historical Facts. 

CHAPTER H. 

MiNisiNK Settlement, 1787 — ^Letters by Samuel Preston — 
Minisink Once a Lake. 

CHAPTER III. 

A Story of Pioneer Children. 

CHAPTER IV. 

How A Mother Saved Her Children — The Wyoming 
Massacre — Gen. Sullivan's Raid — Orange County — An Inci- 
dent of Captivity from Orange County — Middletown Settled — 
Sullivan County Formed from Ulster — Some Kingston Rec- 
ords — Indian Settlements — An Orange County Settler — Cap- 
ture of Stony Point — Settlement of Wyoming and Cochecton — 
The Fate of a Foolish Girl. 

CHAPTER V. 

Story of Capt. Cuddeback — Prisoners taken from Paupack 
by the Mohawks — Liberty, N. Y. Settled — A Bear Hunt — An 
Incident of the Settlement of White Lake, Sullivan County — 
Monticello Settled — Children Lost in the Forest — How Provi- 
dence Made Provision for the Pioneers from Connecticut — 
Shehawken Founded- — Description of Joseph Brant — A Mo- 
hawk Chief — Incidents of Branfs Raid on Minisink — Address 



by the Author on the Invasion and Battle of Minisink Feb. 22, 
1911 — Tusten Marches to Defense of Minisink — An Acrostic to 
Benjamin Tusten — Confusion of Dates in Reference to the Mini- 
sink Invasion and Battle — The Minisink Battle — Death of 
Judge Wisner — British Exaggerate Hathorn's Defeat — A Pris- 
oner's Peril — The Gathering of the Bones of the Slain — The 
Indian Dead — Bones Discovered Around a Spring — Incidents 
of the Rout and Retreat — Gen. Hathorn's Address at the 
Burial of the Bones at Goshen, July 22, 1822— Survivors of the 
Battle — The Old Monument Replaced by a New One. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Goshen Celebration of 1862 — The Battlefield — Address 
of Welcome by J. W. Johnston — The Monument — Prayer by 
Rev. J. B. Williams — Oration by Hon. Wm. J. Groo — Address 
by Hon. Arthur C. Butts — Address by Hon. Geo. H. Rowland — 
Address by Hon. Thomas J. Lyon. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Indian ELoauENCE — Extracts from Tecumseh's Speech — 
Tribute to Gen. Jackson — Lord Dunmore's Victory — Logan's 
Defense — Purchasing the Minisink Battlefield — 200th Anni- 
versary of the Settlement of Minisink — Address by C. E. Cudde- 
back — Speech by Rev. Dr. Talmage — Address by Hon. Hiram 
Clark — Address of Rev. A. A. Haines — Address by J. H. Van 
Etten. 

CHAPTER VIIL 

Pioneer Life — A Story of the Pet Fawn. 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Story — Washington's Reward of Fidelity — Gen Hath- 
orii's Official Report of the Battle of Minisink. 

CHAPTER X. 

Narrative or the Captivity by the Indians of Mrs Har- 
bison. 



CHAPTER XI. 

Poems by the Author — The Triumvirate — The Maine in 
the Harbor of Death— The Lonely Soldier's Grave— The Mo- 
hawk Maiden — Teachers' Column — Rules in Rhyme — Bric-a- 
Brac — The Old Replaced by the New — Reminiscences — Pleas- 
ures and Perils of the Delaware— The Idlewild— Relics of the 
War— Eulogy on Senator Wagner— The Empty Chair— Col- 
umbo El Dorado — Vivo Sapiends — The Aborigines — The Mys- 
terious Indian Maiden— A Lyric Poem— The Sullivan County 
Pioneer— The Hunting Scene— The Battle of Minisink. 



CHAPTER I. 



EARLY HISTORY OF MINISINK 

The earliest record we have of the history of Mini- 
sink is 1659. It was during that year that some copper 
ore was brought to Albany by the Indians, who said it 
was found in the Minisink country, and a record was 
entered on the geological books. Next a rumor in some 
way reached the Governor's ears that the French have 
been trying to induce the Minisink Indians to unite with 
other hostile tribes against the Dutch. He sends Capt. 
Arent Schuyler from Xew York through the wilderness 
to JNIinisink to investigate the truthfulness of the report. 

It appears from statements in the t Schuyler jour- 
nal that there was some fur-trading carried on at this 
early date, or at least a trading post was about to be 
opened at Minisink; for he ascertained just what time 
of year the "Shauwans" would arrive there with their 
furs. 

fCAPT. SCHUYLER'S JOURNAL. 

"]May it please your Excell: In pursuance to yr 
Excell. commands I have been in the INIinissinck Coun- 
try of which I have kept the following Journal, viz. : 

1694 ye 3d of Feb. I departed from New Yorke for 
Eeast New Jersey and came that night att Bergen- 
town, where I hired 2 men and a guide. Ye 4th Sun- 



■j-This is supposed to be the Schuyler who accompanied the five Mo- 
hawk chiefs to England in the year 1710 who visited Queen Ann's court. 
It is claimed that a settlement was made at Minisink four years before 
Capt. Schuyler's visit, as mentioned elsewhere in this book; but he does 
not say anything about any white settlers being in the Minisink valley in 
1694. It is certain, however, that the issolated settlement was flourishing 
in 1697, for a patent issued to them bv the Colonial Governor of New York 
bears date, Oct. 14th, 1697. 

11 



day morning I went from Bergentown and travelled 
about 10 English miles beyond Haghkingsack to an In- 
dian place called Peckwes. Ye 5th Monday From 
Peckwes North and be west I went about thirty-two 
miles — snowing and rainy weather. Ye 6th Tuesday I 
continued my journey to JNIaggaghamieck (Neversink) 
river and from thence to within half a day's journej^ to 
the JNIinissinck. Ye Wed. about 11 o-clock I arrived att 
the Minissinck and there I met with two of their Sach- 
ems and several other Indians of whom I enquired after 
some news, if the French or their Indians had sent for 
them or been in ye JNIinissinck Country. Upon which 
they answered that noe French nor any of the French 
Indians were, nor had been in the JNIinissinck Country, 
nor there abouts and did promise yt if ye French should 
happen to come or yt they heard of it, that they will 
forthwith send a messenger and give yr Excellency no- 
tice thereof. 

Inquiring further after news they told me that 6 
days agoe three Christians and two Shauwans Indians 
who went about 15 months agoe with Arnout Yielle into 
the Shauwans Country were passed by the Minissinck 
going to Albany to fetch powder for Arnout and his 
Company and further told them that sd Arnout in- 
tended to be there with seven hundred of ye said Shau- 
wans Indians loaded with beaver and peltries att ye time 
ye Indian corn is about 1 foot high (which maj^ be in the 
month of June ) . 

The Minissinck Sachems further said that one of 
their Sachems and other of their Indians were gone to 
fetch beavor and peltries which they had hunted and 
having heard noe news of them are afraid yt ye Sinne- 
ques have killed them for ye lucar of the beavor or be- 
cause ye JNIinissinck Indians have not been with ye 
Sinneques as usual to pay their dutty and therefore de- 

12 



sire yt Your Excellency will be pleased to order the 
Sinneqiies may be told not to molest or hurt ye Minis- 
sincks, they be willing to continue in amity with them. 

In the afternoon I departed from ye Minissincks 
the 8th, 9th & 10th of Feb. I travelled and came to 
Bergen in ye morning and about noon arrived att New 
Yorke. 

This is, may it please your Excellency, the humble 
report of your Excellency's most humble servt, 

Arent Schuyler.'^ 



The following address is given at this point on ac- 
count of its historical value: 

OPENING ADDRESS BY THE PRESIDENT, REV. DR. S. W. 
MILLS, OF PORT JERVIS, N. Y. 

Members of the Minisink Valley Historical Society and all 
who are here present, I extend to you in the name of the So- 
ciety a cordial gi'eeting. To the resident members and to those 
who have come to us from a distance ; to those who participate 
in these exercises or seek in any way to give interest to this 
occasion ; to the wives and daughters of the members present 
as well as to all who are here assembled, I give a hearty, joyous 
welcome. 

This second semi-annual celebration of our Society brings 
us together again in this beautiful grove, which a year ago, at 
the request of its owner, we dedicated by the appropriate and 
historic name of Caudebec Park, under circumstances of more 
than ordinary interest. The day itself is one that should ever 
be held in remembrance by the people of this valley and of the 
whole surrounding country. It was on the 22d of July, more 
than a century ago, that a most fierce and terrible conflict was 
waged between the defenders of their homes in this valley and 
their savage invaders — a conflict in which not only those in- 
habiting the valley whose dwellings, church and other buildings, 
twenty-one in all, were burned, participated; but their neigh- 
bors across tlie mountain and lower down along the Delaware, 
making common cause with them, rallied to their aid to overtake 
and if possible exterminate the murderous band. The battle 
that followed and which was fought some twenty miles west 
from the place where we are now assembled was one which, while 
disastrous to our patriot sires and bringing sorrow to many 
homes, yet witnessed deeds of valor and courage that may well 
be ranked among the many heroic ones of that long seven years' 
struggle for our country's independence. Possibly some of 
these may be related in your hearing to-day. 

We do well to commemorate the 22d of July and to recall 
the deeds of noble daring then performed and to hand them 

14 



down to coming generations, that those who come after us may 
learn something of the costly price paid by their forefathers in 
treasure and blood and long privation and suffering to secure 
the liberties which they enjoy. Every one in the beautiful val- 
leys of the Minisink Country, or of its surrounding mountains 
and hills or wherever their lot may be cast, in whose veins flows 
the blood of the men who engaged in the strife of that hot July 
day, may well have a just and honest pride in the deeds of their 
ancestors and may tell them to their children and their children's 
children. 

Another interest, however, attaches to our gathering at this 
time. We commemorate to-day an event which took place long 
anterior to those scenes of strife and blood — one in which peace- 
ful men came quietly and peaceably seeking for themselves a 
home in this beautiful valley, one of the fairest and loveliest 
upon which the sun shines. Just when the white man first set 
foot upon the soil here we cannot say positively. We are in- 
clined to the belief that as early as 1659 or 1660 the Holland- 
ers had traveled over this entire valley and had constructed 
what has been called the "Old Mine road" leading from Esopus 
or Kingston on the Hudson through the Rondout and Mama- 
kating valleys, on through this valley of the Neversink and 
down the Delaware to the copper mines of Pahaquarry in War- 
ren county, N. J., this side of the Delaware Water Gap. This 
is not the time, neither is it the place, to give reasons for what 
some have disputed.* But assuming that such a road had been 
constructed and used as has been claimed, it was for a special 
purpose and its use ceased when the control of the country 
passed from the Dutch to the English. No permanent settle- 
ments resulted from it except at its terminus at the mines. 

The first settlement, we have reason to believe, was two hun- 
dred years ago, in 1690. Mr. Gumaer, in his "History of Deer 
park," gives this as the year and assigns, as we think, good 
reasons for the statement. It is certain that a patent for 1,200 
acres was granted to the first seven settlers October 14, 1697. 
Petitions addressed to the Colonial Government asking to be 
protected in their title, of about the same date on record at 
Albany, confirm his view. Mr. Gumaer says the first settlers 



*In the Albany Records under date of April 25th, 1659, is an entry 
relating to copper mine at the Minisink. 

15 



were here occupying their land for some years before Jacob 
Codebec, one of their number, was sent to the Governor of the 
New York Colony to procure a patent. This seems to bear 
out his statement as to the year, and when his character for 
truthfulness, accuracy and candor, and his opportunities for 
obtaining information, are considered, we are disposed to be- 
lieve that 1690 was the time of their location. These settlers 
were seven in number : Jacob Codebec, Thomas Swartwout, An- 
thony Sw^artwout, Bernardus Swartwout, Jan Tys, Peter Gimar 
and David Jamison. The spot upon which they located was 
a little over a mile south of where we are now assembled, across 
the flats east from the house now occupied by Cornelius Caskey 
and around a hill which may be seen there. 

About this same year it is probable one William Titsoort, 
blacksmith, located in this same valley a little further south, 
about one mile from Port Jervis. Titsoort had been driven 
out of Schenectady by the fearful massacre there in 1689, 
barely escaping with his life to Esopus where he had friends, 
and being known to the friendly Indians, he was invited by 
them to take up his residence in the Minisink Country. They 
voluntarily granted to him a tract of land situate and being 
at Maghagkemek known by the name of Schaikackamick in 
an elbow. This description Avould seem to locate it about 
where the late Simon Westfall lived, including probably the 
property now owned and occupied by Benjamin Van Fleet. 
Titsoort obtained license to purchase October 15, 1698, and 
did so purchase. After remaining here some years, he sold to 
Jan Decker two parcels of land in 1713 and moved to Dutchess 
County. The site selected by the first seven settlers was called 
Peenpack, which was the name given to district extending from 
Cuddebackville to Huguenot, and by which it was known until 
a comparatively recent date. 

About twenty years after the first settlers located here, others 
came to the valley and settled a few miles further south and 
nearer Port Jervis, in what was called the Lower Neighbor- 
hood, extending from Huguenot to Port Jei-^is, and on both 
sides of the Neversink. These were all Hollanders or of Hol- 
land descent, coming here directly from Ulster County. From 
these two settlements the Delaware Valley below Port Jervis 
became settled, as well as portions of Sussex County, N. J., in 

16 



the Clove and at Deckertown, a large portion of whose inhabi- 
tants are of Holland or Huguenot descent. 

It was no light undertaking at that time to come to a coun- 
try such as this. It required a resolution and courage and 
energy equal to that now required to settle in Oregon or even 
in Alaska. This whole valley for forty miles in either direc- 
tion from this point was an unbroken wilderness through which 
the red man roamed unrestrained. No dwelling for civilized man 
Avas to be found in all its length and breadth and for many 
long miles in any direction — not even a log cabin — nothing but 
the wigwam of the Indian was to be seen. 

Of the .first seven whose names appear in the Codebec and 
Guimar patent, all but one were Huguenots and Hollanders. 
Jamison was a Scotchman who it seems never settled perma- 
nently in the valley, since from 1697 to 1714 he served as 
Vestryman or Warden in Trinity Church, New York. He prob- 
ably joined with the others in the purchase for speculative pur- 
poses, but did not remain nor ever located here. Codebec and 
Guimar were Huguenots who were driven out of France by the 
persecution wliich followed the revocation of the Edict of 
Nantes in 1685, by Louis XIV. By this inhuman and despotic 
measure 500,000 of the best, most intelligent, moral and indus- 
trious citizens of France were driven out of the country; 
400,000 perished by hunger, fatigue, cold and the sufferings 
inflicted in one form or the other by their bloody persecutors, 
sixty millions of francs in specie were lost to her as well as 
her most flourishing manufactures. The people fled to Eng- 
land, to Switzerland, to Holland, to Prussia, to Denmark, to 
Sweden and to America. 

Many of the best and most honored names in our country 
are those of persons who at this time fled here for refuge where 
they could have freedom to worship God and enjoy the rights 
of conscience. They came to South Carolina, to Delaware, to 
Maryland and Virginia, to New Jersey and to Westchester and 
Ulster Counties in this State. The settlement at New Paltz 
was composed entirely of Huguenots. 

Among those who left France at this time never to return 
to it were Jacob Codebec and Peter Guimar. Going at first 
to Holland br England they came at length to Maryland and, 
after a short stay there to this State and finally located in this 

17 



valley. The families to which they belonged in France were in 
comfortable circumstances. They could have retained all their 
possessions had they but renounced their faith and embraced 
Romanism. They chose, however, to forsake all — home, country, 
kindred and worldly substance rather than renounce their re- 
ligion. They fled, or one of them at least, with their perse- 
cutors in close pursuit barely escaping with their lives. The 
others were Hollanders, coming themselves or immediately 
descended from those who came from a country in which, unlike 
France at tliat time, the rights of conscience and full religious 
liberty were enjoyed. They came from a noble country and 
were descended from a noble race — from men who by their 
industry, their indomitable courage and perseverance had re- 
claimed large portions of their country from the dominion of 
the sea, and whose love of liberty was such that when besieged 
by their enemies, as their last resort, rather than submit to 
them they opened the flood-gates and caused the waters again 
to flow over the land, exclaiming: 'Better a lost land than lost 
liberty' ; a country that for eighty years maintained a struggle 
against the armies of Spain, at that time the proudest and most 
powerful kingdom of Europe and who triumphed over them ; 
a country that fought, and that successfully, the battles of 
civil and religious liberty for the world ; that was the first of 
modern nations to guaranty the rights of conscience in matters 
of religion ; where the New England Pilgrims when driven out 
by oppression from their own country found shelter and pro- 
tection for eleven years before coming to Plymouth Rock; a 
country in which two centuries before our own Declaration of 
Independence, its very principles had been boldly proclaimed 
and where by the compact of Utrecht the seven provinces of the 
Netherlands were formed into a free government in 1579, with 
their motto 'Eendragtmarkt macht,' (Union makes strength), 
which is but another and even more expressive form of our own 
American motto, 'E Pluribus Unum,' and where two years later 
in 1581 their Declaration of Independence was promulgated 
in these memorable words which rulers and politicans of every 
land would do well ever to bear in mind : 'The people were not 
made for the prince but the prince for the people who always 
have the right to depose him if he should oppress them' ; a 
country that had its free schools supported by the State as 

18 



recommended by John of Nassau, brother of William of Orange, 
and which the New England Pilgrims found in existence while 
in Holland, and which they brought with them to Plymouth 
Rock and here established as one of the glories of our country ; 
a country that had its universities "whose doors were open to 
students of all creeds and nationahties at a time when all other 
seats of learning were closed to those who denied their dogmas 
in religion or did not commune with their church. Free thought, 
free speech, inquiry, discussion and the open Bible were un- 
known except in this little corner of Europe which its indomit- 
able people had rescued from the sea and waged perpetual 
battle with the ocean to keep." 

It was from races such as these, Huguenots and Hollanders, 
men who loved liberty, both civil and religious, and who en- 
dured untold sufferings and sacrifices for its maintenance, that 
the first settlers of this valley descended. We do well to recall 
this day their history to remind ourselves and others of all that 
was noble and excellent in them. We honor, and that justly, 
the New England Pilgrims who for conscience sake crossed the 
ocean in the Wintry month of December and landed at 
Plymouth Rock. They have never wanted for those to cele- 
brate their deeds and virtues in prose and verse, in eloquence 
and song. Without detracting one iota from all that is due to 
them we claim for the Huguenot and Hollander equal honor 
and praise for all that they have done and endured in the cause 
of human liberty, but whose modesty in speaking of themselves 
has been such that the world has never yet learned how much 
it is indebted to them. Ye descendants of the Huguenot and 
the Hollander, here and elsewhere, hold in high honor and 
esteem the races from which you have sprung. Cherish the 
memory of your ancestors. Let their religious principles and 
their love of liberty be deeply engraven on your minds and 
hearts. Imitate the virtues which they practised and count 
them a possession more priceless and enduring than any worldly 
substance Inherited from them. 



19 



CHAPTER II 

A GLIMPSE OF THE MINISINK SETTLE- 
MENT IN THE YEAR 1787. 



From Letters Written by Samuel Preston, Esq., 
Dated June 6 and 14, 1828. 

"In 1787 the writer went on his first surveying tour 
into Northampton County; he was deputed under John 
Lukens, Surveyor General, and received from him by 
way of instruction the following narrative respecting 
the settlement of Minisink on the Delaware, above the 
Kittanny and Blue Mountains: 

"That the settlement was formed for a long time 
before it was known to the Government of Philadelphia. 
That when the government was informed of the settle- 
ment they passed a law in 1729 that any such purchase 
of the Indians should be void, and the purchasers in- 
dicted for forcible entry and detainer, according to the 
law of England. That in 1730 they appointed an agent 
to go and investigate the facts; that the agent so ap- 
pointed was the famous Surveyor Nicholas Scull; that 
he (James Lukens) was N. Scull's apprentice to carry 
chain and learn surveying; that they both understood 
and could talk Indian. They hired Indian guides and 
had a fatiguing journey, there being no white inhabi- 
tants in the upper part of Bucks or Northampton 
County. That they had great difficulty to lead their 
horses through the water gap to Minisink flats, which 
were all settled with Hollanders; with several they 
could only be understood in Indian. 

21 



"At the venerable Depuis' they found great hospital- 
ity and plenty of the necessaries of life. J. Lukens 
said that the first thing which struck his attention was a 
grove of apple trees of size far beyond any near Phila- 
delphia. * * * That S. Depuis told them when 
the rivers were frozen he had a good road to Esopus, 
near Kingston, from the Mine holes, on the Mine road, 
some hundred miles. That he took his wheat and cider 
there for salt and necessaries, and did not appear to 
have any knowledge of where the river ran — Philadel- 
phia market — or being in the Government of Pennsyl- 
vania. 

"They were of the opinion that the first settlement of 
Hollanders in Minisink was many years older than 
Wm. Penn's charter, and that S. Depuis had treated 
them so well they concluded to make a survey of his 
claim, in order to befriend him if necessary. When they 
began to survey, the Indians gathered around; an old 
Indian laid his hand on N. Scull's shoulder and said, 
'Put up iron string; go home.' They then quit and re- 
turned. 

"I had it in charge from John Lukens to learn more 
particulars respecting the Mine road to Esopus, etc. I 
found Nicholas Depuis, Esq., son of Samuel, living in 
a spacious stone house in great plenty and affluence. 
The old Mine holes were a few miles above on the Jer- 
sey side of the river, by the lower point of the Paa- 
quarry Flat; that the Minisink settlement extended 
forty miles or more on both sides of the river. * * * 

"I then went to view the Paaquarry Mine holes. 
There appeared to have been a great abundance of labor 
done there at some former time, but the mouths of the 
holes were caved full and overgrown with bushes. I 
concluded to myself if there ever had been a rich mine 
under that mountain it must be there yet in close con- 

22 



finement. The other old men I conversed with gave 
their traditions similar to N. Depuis, and they all ap- 
peared to be grandsons of the first settlers and very 
ignorant as to the dates and things relating to chronol- 
ogy. In the Sunmier of 1789 I began to build on this 
place ; then came two venerable gentlemen on a survey- 
ing expedition. They were the late Gen. James Clin- 
ton, the father of the late Dewitt Clinton, and Chris- 
topher Tappen, Esq., Clerk and Recorder of Ulster 
County. For many years before they had both been 
surveyors under Gen. Clinton's father, when he was 
Surveyor General. In order to learn some history of 
gentlemen of their general knowledge, I accompanied 
them into the woods. They both well knew of the Mine 
holes. Mine road, etc., and as there were no kind of 
documents or records thereof, united in the opinion 
that it was a work transacted while the State of New 
York belonged to the Government of Holland; that it 
fell to the English in 1664; and that the change in gov- 
ernment stopped the mining business and that the road 
must have been made many years before such diggings 
could have been done. That it must have been the first 
good road of that extent made in any part of the United 
States." 

MINISINK ONCE A LAKE 

That the mysterious Minisink Country was once a 
vast inland lake, covering upward of a hundred square 
miles, is evident from the fact that we find sedimentary 
deposits in the form of sand and gravel several hundred 
feet higher than the present bed of the Delaware and 
far remote from any stream. 

The outlet of this vast lake from the Water Gap 
southward was the Delaware River, forming a cataract 
hundreds of feet higher than the falls of Niagara; and 
while this great body of water was held in check the 

23 



work of formation was going on underneath the sur- 
face, dej^ositing sediment which we at the present time 
treasure in the rich bottom land of the Delaware Valley. 
The ice gorge for which the Delaware has always been 
celebrated acted as a battering-ram all the way down 
through the centuries until the gigantic mountain wall 
tottered and fell before it. The waters thus set free 
continued to be lowered by the hand of time until the 
beautiful Delaware, fed by its numerous tributaries, 
found an undisputed course to the sea. 

Time sets his impress on the hardest rock 
And bids it crumble from the mountain side ; 

He wears the rock-walled chasm block from block, 
Until it levels with the ocean tide. 

Another Minisink mystery was the settlement, iso- 
lated as it were from the outside world of civilization 
and surroimded by the barbarous red men of the forest. 
In fact, there was such a commingling that in many 
cases the descendants of the Hollanders spoke the In- 
dian language exclusively, while their own tongue was 
sadly neglected. 

And years after the founding of a permanent settle- 
ment, when the children of these sturdy pioneers real- 
ized that there was an outside world, they were obliged 
to travel so far for the purpose of market or trade that 
life must have been almost a burden. 



M 



CHAPTER III 

A STORY OF PIONEER CHILDREN. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE HARDSHIPS OF EARLY PIONEER LIFE 
WILL SERVE TO ENLIGHTEN MY READERS. 

One autumn in the early settlement of the Delaware 
Valley it became necessary for both the father and 
mother of a family to go a distance of thirty miles to 
trade while they left the children alone in the house. 
As most of the pioneers went to town with a yoke of 
oxen and a wood-shod sledge on account of poor roads, 
these parents made slow progress and were obliged to 
stay all night in town. 

During the afternoon the children discovered some 
Indians, who had evidently learned that the parents 
were away, watching the house and acting very sus- 
piciously. They knew that after dark the savages in- 
tended to visit them and probably carry them away as 
captives, and some children would be so frightened as to 
wander off in the woods; but in those days of great 
danger children were taught to be brave and use judg- 
ment in every critical emergency. The oldest was a 
girl of some twelve or thirteen years, and she had been 
told that Indians were very superstitious, so she formu- 
lated a plan of escape. 

She took several large pumpkins from the wood- 
house, and having cut hideous faces in them, set a tal- 
low candle in each one, ready to light. 

There was a cave near the house which was used for 
a vegetable cellar, and just before night she sent the 
other children into this cave and put the jack-'o-lan- 



terns on top and at the sides of the entrance. As soon 
as it was dark she Hghted the candles and covered every 
face with a cloth. 

It was not very long before the children heard the 
dog bark and knew the Indians were around the house. 
Our heroine then cautiously uncovered the pumpkins 
and began beating the door furiously with a club for 
several minutes. 

She heard an outcry, and listening a moment, she 
heard one of them say in broken Dutch, "Paleface ghost 
watch white man's wigwam! Me no go in." 

The savages were soon heard retreating through the 
forest, uttering bitter threats mingled with cries of 
alarm. 

The next day the parents returned, and when they 
were told about the children's trick on the redmen they 
embraced them with grateful hearts to a kind Provi- 
dence, who had given their little ones courage and wis- 
dom in the hour of peril, and the father reverently re- 
peated from God's word, "How should one chase a 
thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight?" 



26 



CHAPTER IV 

HO^V A MOTHER SAVED HER CHILDREN. 

AN INCIDENT OF PIONEER LIFE IN ORANGE COUNTY. 

It was customary for the early settlers to procure a 
large portion of their meat from the forest, and in the 
autumn large hunting parties were organized to procure 
bear meat and venison to pickle in salt and smoke for 
winter use. 

One day, just before dark, one of the sturdy house- 
wives stood looking for the return of her husband, when 
she discovered some Indians dodging behind the log 
barn and apparently prej)aring for a raid on the house. 

She knew they would soon enter and that the appe- 
tite of an Indian often frustrates his plans, so she placed 
some cold victuals on the table and told the children to 
hurry up-stairs, as the men were coming with a big 
black bear and she feared it would frighten them. 

The heroic mother soon followed and shortly after- 
ward heard the Indians coming in the door which con- 
sisted of a bearskin hung over an opening in the front. 

She then hastily threw all the feather-beds out of 
the back window in a pile, and bidding the little ones be 
quiet for fear of the bear, she dropped them one after 
another on the beds and then jumped out herself. By 
keeping on the side of the dwelling wliich had no win- 
dows the mother managed to reach the forest, and in a 
grove where she watched as a guard ovej* her sleeping 
little ones, she witnessed the burning of their buildings, 
the light of which gave warning to the other settlers and 
gave them time to flee. 

27 



In the morning she awoke her children, and after 
much fatigue and suffering they found their way to a 
distant village. 

The father returned from the hunt, and finding his 
buildings in ashes was smitten with grief, not only for 
the loss of his buildings, but he supposed his family 
had been burned to death while asleep. 

He was, however, greatly relieved the next day by a 
messenger who came and told him his family were safe 
in a distant town. 

THE WYOMING MASSACRE. 

About July 1, 1778, great numbers of Indians and 
Tories began to appear on the banks of the Susque- 
hanna River, under command of Col. John Buttler, 
from Fort Niagara. It has been claimed by some his- 
torians that Col. Brant was with the expedition, but the 
best authorities assert that he was not at Wyoming at 
all during the raid on that settlement. 

The raiders carried the first fortification they came 
to, and Col. Zebulon Buttler, who had charge of the 
forts, withdrew with his forces to Fort Kingston, a 
much stronger position, and disposed of his men to the 
best advantage to defend the fort. 

Col. John saw he could not take the fort without 
great slaughter, so being a cousin of Zebulon, he took 
the advantage of relationship by arranging for a parley. 

Col. Zebulon believed the flattering words of Col. 
John and consented, notwithstanding the place named 
for the conference was quite a long distance from the 
fort, and marched out an armed force of four hundred 
men to the place of appointment. When Col. Zebulon 
arrived at the appointed place, not an officer or soldier 
was in sight. He finally discovered a man'with a flag in 

28 



the adjoining forest, motioning for him to proceed; 
which he did without mistrusting any stratagem. 

He proceeded some distance in the forest, when sud- 
denly a terrible warwhoop sounded and he discovered 
that he was entirely surrounded by the enemy, who be- 
gan firing from all directions. 

Col. Zebulon displayed great military skill and imme- 
diately drew U23 his men into a hollow square to protect 
the center. By this skilful maneuver he gained a great 
advantage and was at the point of carrying destruction 
into the very heart of the invaders, when some officer 
who had taken too much rum before the engagement 
shouted, "Col. Zebulon has ordered a retreat. Fall 
back." 

With this countermanding of orders, the militia broke 
and the Savages, taking advantage of the confusion, 
rushed forward and began a terrible slaughter with 
tomahawks and knives ; so that out of the four hundred 
that went out only sixty reached the redout on the oppo- 
site side of the river. 

The victors then went back and surrounded Fort 
Kingston. To terrorize the occupants of the fort, they 
threw about two hundred bleeding scalps over the wall. 

Col. Dennison, who commanded the fort, sent a flag 
of truce to Col. John Buttler to ask what terms should 
be granted if he surrendered the fort. The answer he 
returned was, "The Hatchet." 

The soldiers defended the fort until they were nearly 
all killed, when they surrendered. Many of the women 
and children were made prisoners, but some escaped and 
made their way across the wilderness to the Delaware 
Valley. 

The father of the late Dr. Merritt H. Cash, of 
Orange County, N. Y., was in the massacre. The doc- 
tor was a small boy and his mother led him through the 

29 



dense forest to the Minisink settlement (now Port Jer- 
vis ) . They spent several gloomy nights sleeping in the 
wilderness under some overhanging rock or at the foot 
of some high tree, the mother gathering berries through 
the day for their subsistence and keeping guard at night 
over her child while he slept. The forest in those days 
was full of wolves and other fierce wild beasts, and this 
heroic mother related, in after years, many thrilling ad- 
ventures of that never-to-be-forgotten journey. 

In 1779, the next year after the Wyoming massacre, 
Gen. Washington fitted out two armies to invade the 
Mohawk Country. One was led by *Gen. James Clin- 
ton, who ascended the Mohawk River to the vicinity of 
Fort Plain orCanajoharie and then transferred his boats 
and baggage overland to Otsego Lake. The army lay 
encamped for some time at Cooperstown, awaiting 
orders. 

GEN. SULLIVAN'S RAID. 

The other army was in command of Gen. Sullivan. 
This celebrated General left Easton about the middle 
of July and arrived at Wyoming July 22d, the same day 
the disastrous battle of Minisink was fought in Ulster 
(now Sullivan) Count5% N. Y. He had one hundred 
and twenty boats, two thousand horses and two thousand 
five hundred men. With this vast army he proceeded up 
the Susquehanna River, while Gen. Clinton came down 
to meet him. Gen. Sullivan found the enemy, about one 
thousand strong, collected at or near Newton on the 
Tioga River. They were strongly entrenched behind a 
breastwork. On the 29th of August he attacked them 
and drove them from their defenses across the river, from 
whence they scattered and fled. 



* G^n. Clinton wrote his wife from Cooperstown, "I busy myself fishing 
in the beautiful Otsego, while awaiting for further orders. I have suc- 
ceeded in catching some of the most beautiful perch I ever saw." 

30 



Sullivan then marched through the Indian country 
and destroyed thirteen villages and vast fields of corn. 
He also chopped down all the Indian orchards of 
thrifty fruit trees as far as the Genesee Valley. After 
teaching the savages a never-ending lesson, his vic- 
torious army returned by way of Tioga Point and 
Wyoming, thence to Easton. 

The Indian Confederacy never recovered after this 
raid. It existed in name only, with here and there a 
shattered branch, as if the "great trunk" which had 
stood the storms of centuries was riven by a mighty 
thunderbolt, and the ground for miles in all directions 
was strewn with the splinters of the wreckage. 

*ORANGE COUNTY. 

An order was issued by Gov. Bellmont in 1698 that 
the Sheriffs and Justices of the Peace should pro- 
ceed to take a census of the several counties of the State 
of New York. Orange County was found to contain 
twenty-nine men, thirty-one women, one hundred and 
forty children and nineteen negro slaves. 

An ordinance for holding Courts of Common Pleas 
was signed by Queen Anne, April 5, 1703. The first 
courts were held at Orangetown, in what is now Rock- 
land County. Goshen became a small, thriving settle- 
ment about 1725, and in 1727 it became the county seat 
and the first session of the Orange County Court was 
held there. 

The Wawayanda Patent was granted to Christopher 
Denn in 1712. He Hved in New Jersey, just across 
from Staten Island. Denn could not move upon the 

* Orange County has produced some very prominent men. Dewitt Clin- 
ton, a former Governor; Wm. H. Seward, a former Secretary of State, 
and Henry G. Wisner, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independ- 
ence, were formerly from this county. 

31 



land himself nor get anyone else who would agree to 
settle, and he was about to lose his patent. Finally 
his adopted daughter, Sarah Wells, a girl sixteen years 
old, offered to settle on it. 

She spent some time in making arrangements, and 
after learning from her stepfather about Avhere the land 
lay and what was the best way to reach it, she set out in 
a boat on the Hudson River with some servants and 
landed near New Windsor, where she employed some 
friendly Indians and proceeded on foot to the Otter 
Kill. 

When they prepared to encamp for the night the In- 
dians gathered some pine boughs, and having bended 
some saplings down to the ground, fixed a bed for Miss 
Wells by spreading their furs on these saplings after 
fastening them together with thongs and crossing them 
with the downy pine boughs. They then lay down at 
her feet and kept guard wliile she slej)t. It must have 
taken extraordinary courage for a girl of sixteen to 
undertake such hardships and endure so much fatigue 
to acquire a tract of land. After several days she suc- 
ceeded in selecting a site on the patent which was suit- 
able to build upon and she at once set her force to work 
building a log house. 

The logs were simply notched and piled up some- 
thing in the manner of building a rail fence. They 
were then plastered with clay to close the openings, and 
the whole covered with bark, laid on pole rafters. A 
stone fireplace Avas built in the rear of the building by 
piling up stone something after the pattern of a black- 
smith's forge, and extending it above the roof. Two 
holes were cut into the logs, over which a cloth or 
greased skin was spread for windoAvs, and an opening 
left in the front from the ground to the roof, over which 
a bearskin or wolfskin was hung for a door. In this 

32 



primitive dwelling, surrounded by wild animals and de- 
pendent upon her Indian neighbors for much of her 
food and clothing, this resolute heroine founded the first 
settlement of Wawayanda. 

She afterward married one William Bull and owned 
and occupied a one hundred acre tract set off to her by 
her stepfather as a recompense for her sacrifice and ser- 
vices. She lived to be over one hundred years old. 

AN INCIDENT OF CAPTIVITY FROM ORANGE COUNTY. 

Two brothers named Coleman lived together in a log 
house with their wives and children. One Sabbath after- 
noon, just after harvest, one of the brothers, while ab- 
sent looking for a horse, was shot and scalped by In- 
dians, who then proceeded to the house and shot the other 
brother, who was sick in bed, by firing through between 
the logs. They then entered the house by forcing the 
door and dragged their other victim from his bed and 
scalped him. They then set fire to the house and taking 
the women and children captives, started westward. 

One of the women had recently been sick and was 
unable to walk. She was fastened astride an old horse 
and then given her infant child, but the savages, fearing 
the cries of the child would reveal their whereabouts, 
soon took it from her and dashed it against a tree. On 
coming to a ford, Mrs. Coleman's horse was sent 
through first to ascertain the depth of the stream. 

News of the outrage had spread through the neigh- 
borhood that night and the next morning a posse of men 
were in hot pursuit. The Indians, finding they were 
about to be overtaken, turned aside into a tliicket and 
the pursuers passed so near that their voices were dis- 
tinctly recognized. The captives were threatened, so 
they did not dare give any outcry, and allowed their 
friends to pass on out of hearing. 

33 



After the Indians were satisfied that the wliites had 
been foiled and that the danger of attack was over, they 
took Mrs. Coleman from her horse for the first time, 
and encamped for the night. On Tuesday morning 
they resumed their journey without any of the party 
tasting food, because up to this time the Indians were 
afraid to fire a gun on account of their pursuers. Short- 
ly after they resumed their journey they considered the 
danger of attack over, and one of the Indians shot a 
deer and the starving captives were given some roasted 
venison. Their progress through the forest was very 
slow and on Wednesday night they arrived at their camp 
somewhere west of the Delaware River. 

In this camp there were several other Indians and 
they built a great fire to celebrate their triumph. They 
then stripped all the children naked and whipped them 
around the fire and also inflicted other cruelties. 

Mrs. Coleman, being worn out with fatigue and un- 
able to endure the sight of her children suffering while 
she was powerless to help them, crept off unobserved 
into the forest to die; but after wandering about for 
some time, discovered a light at a distance and decided 
to make her way to it. 

After a fatiguing journey, groping her way over 
rocks and fallen trees, she drew near the light and found 
that it shone from an Indian wigwam. She could see 
through the opening that it was occuj)ied by an aged 
squaw, and not knowing what else to do, threw herself 
on Indian hospitality. She was very agreeably sur- 
prised when the squaw addressed her in broken Eng- 
lish and made her welcome. Mrs. Coleman learned that 
the Indian woman had lived for a time among the white 
people and was partially civilized. She then related her 
sad experience to her hostess, who tried every way to 
make her comfortable. This squaw was known by the 

34 



Indians as "Peter Nell" and lived all alone in her wig- 
wam in the wilderness. 

Peter Nell understood Mrs. Coleman's weak condi- 
tion and made her some venison soup after the manner 
of white people, and after supper arranged a bed of 
leaves spread with skins for her to sleep on. 

The squaw assured her that the Indians should not 
harm her, and she spent several days in the wigwam. 

When she was strong enough, Peter Nell made prepa- 
ration and accompanied her back to her friends in 
Orange County. 

The fate of the other woman and the children remains 
a mystery. 

MIDDLETOWN SETTLED. 

One of the first settlers in Middletown was Capt. Dan- 
iel Stringham, w^ho married Abigail Horton 1794. They 
had a family of ten children and all of them were born 
in that, then small hamlet. One of their sons, Silas 
Horton Stringham, born 1797, became a noted naval 
officer, serving on the frigates "President" and "Guer- 
rier" and rising to the rank of Admiral. He is said to 
have taken an active part in three wars: the war of 1812, 
the Mexican war and the Rebellion. He died in 1876. 

Some of the refugees who fled across Long Island at 
the time of Gen. Putnam's defeat in 1776, settled in 
Orange and Ulster Counties, some in the vicinity of 
Middletown and some near Bloomingburgh, which was 
then in Ulster County. 

SULLIVAN COUNTY FORMED FROM ULSTER. 

Up to the year 1809, Sullivan County was a part of 
Ulster, and Deerpark was a part of Mamakating; thus 
Brant's raid on Minisink was in Ulster County and the 
battle of JNIinisink was fought in that County while it 
extended from the Hudson to the Delaware. 

35 



SOME KINGSTON RECORDS 

"Rec'd in Kingston 15th Dec'r 1794 of Henry Put- 
nam one of the Collectors of Mamacoting by the hands 
of Albert Roosa, Ten pounds, seven shillings and five 
pense, on county tax of the current year. E. Wm. El- 
mendorf, Co. Treas." 

INDIAN SETTLEMENTS. 

In the year 1776 there were known to be three Indian 
settlements in Ulster County^one about a mile south 
of Bloomingburgh, ruled over by a chief called Tot-a- 
paugh ; another about a mile north of Wurtsboro, known 
as the "Little Yaugh House"; and a third near West- 
brookville, about four miles south of Wurtsboro. 

A road was constructed by Ananias Sacket from 
Mamakating westward, passing about three-quarters of 
a mile south of Lord's Pond and continuing to Nathan 
Kinne's Flatts. From that place Capt. Dorrance made 
a road to Cochecton for five pounds per mile, a distance 
of about thirty- three miles. 

AN ORANGE COUNTY SETTLER 

Henry Reynolds became a clerk in a store in Peeks- 
kill and afterward owned a store of his own. He was 
there in the trying days of the Revolution. In the year 
1777, when Peekskill was invaded by the British, his 
store, among other buildings of the settlement, was 
burned, and he was forced to flee with his wife and five 
children. He next settled at Smith's Cove, Orange 
County, and engaged in farming. He early joined the 
"Minute Men" and was with Gen. Wayne in the attack 
on Stony Point. 



S6 



He suffered many outrages from *Claudius Smith and 
his famous Tory band, who were afterward appre- 
hended, and several of them, including their leader, were 
hanged in Goshen on the 22d day of January, 1779, for 
robbery, sedition and murder. 

CAPTURE OF STONY POINT. 

Washington sent Gen. Wayne, who made a night at- 
tack on the fort July 16, 1779. Wayne divided his forces 
in two divisions to make the attack from opposite direc- 
tions. He was discovered, however, by the guard, who 
called out tauntingly, "Come on, you rebels, we are wait- 
ing for you!" Wayne answered, "We'll be there!" Both 
divisions charged doublequick and gained an entrance 
before the garrison could be propertly posted. 

Wayne was wounded, but called to his men to bear 
him into the fort. There was sharp fighting, but the 
British soon surrendered and six hundred prisoners and 
valuable army stores fell into the hands of the colonists. 

SETTLEMENT OF WYOMING AND COCHECTON. 

James I. granted a vast strip of land in America to 
the Plymouth Comj)any in the year 1620, which was 
afterward confirmed by Charles II. to the Connecticut 
colony in 1663. According to the description, this strip 
was sixty miles wide and extended from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific Ocean, with the exception of a part of New 
York which intervened between Connecticut and the 
Delaware River. 

In 1753 about 200 people of Connecticut formed a 
Company, and sent an agent to attend the council of the 



* It is said that Smith kicked off his shoes while standing on the gal- 
lows, because he said he wished to make a liar of his mother, she having 
prophesied his sad end. 

87 



Six Nations at Albany, July, 11, 1754, to purchase the 
Wyoming lands of the Indians. 

This association of people, called the Susquehanna 
Company, proceeded to the Wyoming region and 
formed a settlement. They hid their tools and farming 
implements in the Fall and returned to Connecticut to 
spend the Winter. 

The next Spring they drove cattle, hogs and sheep 
through the wilderness and resumed their farming. 

About the same time an association calling themselves 
the Delaware Company, from Connecticut, purchased a 
vast tract of land in the Delaware Valley of the same 
Indian tribes, and in 1755 proceeded to found a settle- 
ment on both sides of the river at Cochecton. 

In 1768 the Six Nations at a council held at Fort 
Stanwix conveyed the same lands to the Pennsylvania 
proprietors that they had sold to the Susquehanna and 
Delaware Companies; thus much trouble arose not only 
between the two colonies of Connecticut and Pennsyl- 
vania, but between the settlers and the Indians. 

The Iriquois claimed a supremacy over the Delaware 
tribes and to settle an old grudge, burned their chief, 
Teedyuscung, in his cabin and then made the Delawares 
believe that the Yankees did it. 

This treachery greatly irritated the different tribes in 
the vicinity, and in 1763 they unearthed the hatchet and 
drove the people from the Wyoming settlement. Some 
of these refugees fled to Cochecton and warned the in- 
habitants that the Indians were coming, and all the 
women and children were collected in the block-houses. 
The attack on the fort was delayed for some time, but 
the Savages finally came and surprised and killed two 
men, Moses Thomas, Sr., and Hilkiah Willis, who were 
outside the block-house. Then they attacked the fort, 
but found it so well defended that they relinquished the 

38 



siege, after which the}^ pursued and killed some cattle, 
burned the grist-mill, saw-mill and some other buildings. 

After the destructive band had left, the settlers were 
very much discouraged and would have abandoned the 
settlement if a tribe of friendly Indians had not volun- 
teered their assistance in case of another invasion. 

These Indians, who were known as the Cushetunk, 
made their pledge good in 1777 during the Revolution, 
when word reached the settlement that a band of In- 
dians and Tories were advancing up the river. 

An English woman by the name of Land took her 
infant in her arms and with the aid of her oldest son 
drove her cattle off into the woods, where she remained 
all night, leaving her other four children alone in the 
house. 

The Indians broke into the house very early in the 
morning and awoke the two girls by tickling their feet 
w^ith a sjDear. A certain chief of the Tuscaroras by the 
name of Capt. John had often visited the settlement, 
and one of the girls by the name of Rebecca, supposing 
it to be he, held out her hand and said in a very cheerful 
voice, "How do you do, Capt. John?" The chief then 
asked her if she knew Capt. John. 

She answered, "I know him, but I see I am mis- 
taken." The innocence and frankness of the child 
touched the heart of the Savage and he informed her 
that they were JNIohawks who had come to drive the 
people from the valley, and told her to put on her clothes 
and go and warn the people to flee before they were all 
killed. 

The girl did as she was told and many rushed to the 
river and fled in boats down to jNIinisink. 



39 



THE FATE OF A FOOLISH GIRL. 

One mother succeeded in getting all her children into 
the boat but one foolish girl, who did not realize the 
danger and sauntered beliind. After the boat was 
started down stream some distance, this mother dis- 
covered her child standing on the bank of the river, 
wringing her hands and crying piteously. The woman 
was frantic with grief and tried to induce the men to 
stop the boat and take in the child ; but they argued that 
the boat was already overloaded and besides some of the 
Savages were coming in their canoes in hot pursuit. All 
the pleadings of the mother did not get the boat stopped, 
so the settlers soon disappeared, leaving the weeping 
child standing on the shore. 

That was the last the mother ever saw of the child, and 
although she succeeded in making her escape, and lived 
for many years she never could erase from her memory 
the sad image of her deserted girl crying on the river 
bank. 

When Rebecca came back home after warning the 
people and witnessing several scenes of murder and pil- 
lage, she found the Indians had bound her little brother, 
Abel, and taken him captive with them. 

The Savages, finding that an armed force was collect- 
ing at the block-house, fled up Calkin's Creek, where 
they encountered a body of the Cushetunk Indians, who 
were not only friends of the whites but of the cause of 
liberty, and they tried to get the Mohawks to release 
the boy, but without avail. 

The friendly Indians arrived at Land's house about 
the time Mrs. Land and her other son came home with 
the cattle and reported the route the raiders had taken. 
A pursuing party was quickly formed, consisting of sev- 
eral settlers from the fort and all the Cushetunk Indians 

40 



that could be mustered. John, the brother of Abel, also 
joined the pursuers, and by rapid travelling overtook 
the band and their captive at a place called Oghquaga, 
where the enemy was drawn up in line of battle. There 
was, however, very little fighting and the belligerents 
soon came to a parley, when it was agreed to let Abel 
return home after he had run the gauntlet, for they 
claimed he had been very boisterous and made them 
much trouble. 

After the captive had submitted to their barbarous 
j)unishment he returned with the party to the Delaware, 
much to the joy of his mother and friends. 

Many of the settlers fled through the forest to Mini- 
sink. 

One Mrs. Evans, being belated to cross in the boat 
with her neighbors, swam across the river with her in- 
fant, holding the child's head above water, and joined 
her friends in their flight. 



41 



CHAPTER V 

STORY OF CAPT. CUDDEBACK. 

HE TELLS OF THE SERVICES OF THE VIGILANCE COMMIT- 
TEE—EXPERIENCE ON A TRIP TO COCHECTON. 

"Word came to Minisink from Cochecton that some 
of the Brooks family of that place had been murdered 
by the Indians and that a certain Tory was accused of 
having something to do with it. The vigilance com- 
mittee accordingly set out late the same day for that dis- 
tant settlement. There were three of us in the party 
and as it was in the spring of the year the streams were 
very high and we had much trouble in crossing many of 
them. Night overtook us on the Old Cochecton Trail 
before w^e were half way, and as we were passing an old 
Indian camping ground, I decided that we should spend 
the night there. While passing a pond on our way, we 
had shot some ducks, and we made ready to roast them 
for our supper. We saw a black cloud in the west about 
the time we had finished our supper, and as there was 
some bark which the Indians had used for a wigwam 
piled near, we thought it was best to build some kind 
of shelter, so as to keep dry. 

"We put up some poles and spread the bark on them 
as best we could, making it high enough to sleep under 
but not high enough to stand in. 

"After we had settled down for the night the rain fell 
in torrents and it became very dark. We could hear 
the wolves howHng all around us. They, no doubt, had 
been attracted by the entrails and roasted bones of the 
ducks which we had thoughtlessly thrown outside, and 

43 



one of our party, a slave, became very much frightened. 
We all fell asleep, along toward morning, when a huge 
panther gave a hideous yell within a few feet of our 
tent, and the slave jumped up with such force that he 
knocked the tent down on top of us. 

There we were in the drenching rain, with our guns 
wet so they were no use to us, and the only thing left 
for us to do was for each one to pick up a pine-knot 
torch and our other things and travel on. We traveled 
the remainder of the night and part of the next day 
and reached* Cochecton about noon. I w;ent to the 
Brook's home and asked the family what had caused 
the Indians to attack them. I asked them if they had 
been practicing the Golden Rule with the Indians, and 
they answered they thought they had. 

By questioning them I found that one of their oxen 
had destroyed the Indian's corn on the flats. I asked 
them if they had any corn. They answered that they 
had. I said. "Did you agree to give the Indians some 
corn in place of what had been destroyed?' This they 
refused to answer. One of the boys said, 'A Tory told 
the Indians that the beast was good for the damage 
and a band of them came and drove the ox away with 
them. My father followed and one of the Indian boys 
fired an arrow which wounded father, and he died sev- 
eral days after." 

"I finally apprehended the Tory and was proceeding 
with him to Minisink, when the Brooks boys interfered, 
and it was with great difficulty that we succeeded in sav- 
ing his life, they were so determined and so revengeful. 

"The Tory afterward made me a present of a very 
handsome powder-horn and bullet-pouch for interfering 
and protecting him." 



44 



PRISONERS TAKEN FROM PAUPACK BY THE MOHAWKS. 

Just after the battle of Wj^oming, four men, Reuben 
Jones, Jasper and Stephen Parish, and Stephen Kim- 
ble, were surrounded at Paupack Eddy and taken pris- 
oners into the Mohawk Country and suffered many 
hardships. 

Stephen Kimble, not being very strong, gave out 
under the burden of plunder the Indians compelled him 
to carry, and died on the journey. Jasper Parish mar- 
ried an Indian wife and remained with the Iriquois. 
Stephen Parish became an Indian doctor and returned 
after peace was declared. He practiced in his own com- 
munity as such, but finally went back among the Sav- 
ages and died there. 

Reuben Jones was a very large and powerful man 
and was treated with nuich respect by the Indians. He 
stayed only a few months, for he began early to plan a 
mode of escape. In relating his experience after he 
reached home he said, "I found the young braves were 
very fond of running foot-races, and I began practicing 
with them. Although I found I could outrun most of 
them, I generally allowed them to beat me. All the 
time I was saving up a portion of my allowance of dried 
venison for my anticipated long journey. Finally one 
day I having filled my pockets and clothing with veni- 
son, I challenged a young Indian to a decisive race. 

"We started and I allowed the youth to keep up 
until we got out of sight. I then left him far behind 
and never saw that Indian again. I struck out for the 
headwaters of the Delaware and followed down to Big 
Eddy (Narrowsburg) , thence across to Paupack. I had 
many narrow escapes from wild animals, and although 
I ate nothing but the venison I did not suffer much from 
hunger." 

45 



Jones claimed that an Indian by the name of Canope, 
who pretended to be friendly to the whites, led him and 
his companions into the trap and the Mohawks sprung 
it. Canope was secretly murdered after the war was 
over, and, although the crime was laid to a man by the 
name of Haines, it was thought that Jones had some- 
thing to do with it. Jones' Eddy on the Delaware is 
said to be named after this adventurous pioneer. 

LIBERTY, N. Y., SETTLED. 

Isaac Horton built a mill at Liberty Falls, 1828, and 
began making flour. The wolves were so plentiful and 
bold that many of the settlers became discouraged. 

Mr. Horton salted his flock of sheep and left them se- 
cure, as he supposed, for the night. In the morning 
great was his surprise to find his entire flock gone. The 
wolves had attacked them at night and he found some 
of them along the fences and in the adjoining woods, 
partly devoured. The descendants of the *Horton fam- 
ily are very numerous and very many of them are promi- 
nent citizens of several States of our country. The 
family held a reunion at the Centennial of 1876, where 
the descendants gathered from nearly all parts of the 
Union. 

One of their number, a minister, preached a sermon 
at that reunion from a Bible which was brought over in 
the "Mayflower." 



* Some of their ancestors had settled on Long Island prior to the Revo- 
lution and when Gen. Putnam was obliged to retreat across the island, 
leaving no protection for the patriots against the English, many of those 
people fled from their homes, following in the wake of the army, until they 
could find suitable land for settlement in Sullivan (then a part of Ulster) 
and Orange Counties. Very many made their way through the then 
tangled wilderness by the light of their burning homes. 

46 



A BEAR HUNT. 

In the year 1819 a man known as "Uncle Billy" lived 
in Forestburgh, which was formerly included in Thomp- 
son. He was returning home one evening and discov- 
ered a large bear track in the snow. A hunt was 
planned and the next morning he and two other young 
men started in 23ursuit. The trail was soon found and 
easily followed westward toward the Mongaup. 

"Uncle Billy" carried his rifle and one of the others 
had an ax. As they drew near the Mongaup River, 
they found the snow very much trodden and the pion- 
eer hunters soon discovered a large dark and dee23 hole 
under a ledge of rocks. 

"Uncle Billy" procured a pole and having split the 
end began prodding and twisting it in the opening. He 
then withdrew it and found hair on it, but could not ir- 
ritate Bruin enough to bring him out. He then sharp- 
ened the pole, and using it for a spear, soon brought 
about the desired effect, for Bruin grabbed the end of 
the pole in his mouth and started for the opening, forc- 
ing "Uncle Billy" before him. The old pioneer then 
seized his rifle and when the bear's head appeared, he 
fired, causing the fierce animal to drop to the bottom 
with a growl and thud. His two companions now ad- 
vised him to return home, declaring that if either of 
them should attempt to enter the den it would be cer- 
tain death, as Bruin was just wounded enough to be- 
come ugly. But the old hunter, after some reflection, 
decided to have his companions lower him into the den 
by the feet, at the same time giving them instruction 
to pull him up quickly should he sound an alarm. 

The plan was successful, for he found the bear was 
dead. He then laid hold on his game and his compan- 
ions drew both "Uncle Billy" and the bear to the top. 

47 



They were arranging to depart when they were at- 
tracted by a noise in the den, and in a few minutes the 
head of a smaller bear appeared at the opening. 

"Uncle Billy" was ready with his gun and a well- 
directed bullet caused the mate also to fall back into 
the hole. She, too, was soon dragged out. They then 
tied the feet of the bears and the large one was carried 
on a pole between two, and the small one by the other 
member of the party. In this way they reached the 
road where they met a man with a sled. They induced 
him to take them and their game home, where they and 
their families enjoyed a bear steak for supper. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE SETTLEMENT OF WHITE LAKE, 
SULLIVAN COUNTY. 

A family by the name of Glass settled at what is now 
White Lake, early in the nineteenth century. In the 
year 1806, their little son James, then ten years old, was 
sent to carry a basket of dinner to some wood choppers 
about a mile distant in the forest. In going, he found 
his way all right, but in returning home he missed the 
path and became lost. He wandered about all the after- 
noon and sank down at night on a bed of leaves entirely 
exhausted. He travelled for ten days, sleeping on a 
leafy bed each night, and proceeding the next morning 
in search of his home. One night he was awakened by 
the bleat of a deer; but in a moment heard the loud 
shriek of a catamount and saw the fierce animal pursu- 
ing a little fawn, which, no doubt, fell a prey to the sav- 
age beast and satisfied his hunger, thus saving the hfe of 
the poor lost boy. Although the child was weak with 
hunger, having nothing but wild fruit to eat, he con- 
tinued his search, often dragging himself along on his 
hands and knees on account of blisters on his feet. 

48 



Something seemed to whisper, "Onward! James, On- 
ward!" 

Finally, on the eleventh day, he listened and thought 
he could hear a cowbell. He raised his feeble form and 
saw a clearing, and finally a log dwelling. He crawled 
in sight of the cabin and then sank down exhausted. 
Old Mrs. Lair saw him and came to his rescue and car- 
ried his bruised, emaciated form to her house, which was 
one of the first buildings of Callicoon, New York. She 
laid him on a bed, dressed his wounds and administered 
carefully a little nourishment. He fainted away, but 
recovered, and soon slept in a disturbed slumber. In 
his dreams he called for his uncle and his mother. 

The next morning the old hunters that gathered 
around hastened to carry the news of his recovery to 
White Lake. His parents and friends sought him, 
searching the forest in all directions for eight days, when 
they gave him up for dead. They declared some wild 
beast must have devoured him. Great was their joy and 
surprise when the old hunters came in sight, shouting, 
"The dead is alive and the lost is found!" The noble- 
hearted pioneers gathered around to hear the news and 
rejoice with his parents. 

After James was sufficiently recovered he was taken 
across the wilderness from Callicoon to his home. He 
lived to be an old man, but never recovered fully from 
his sad experience. 

MONTICELLO SETTLED. 

About 1804 two families of Joneses bought a vast 
tract of land and settled in Monticello, naming it after 
Thomas Jefferson's home, who was President of the 
United States at that time. 

They offered gifts of land as an inducement to settle- 

49 



ment and Piatt Pelton, from Putnam County, located 
there and started a tannery, grinding his bark by horse 
power. Major Abraham Brownson and several others 
came from Connecticut about the same time and in- 
creased the settlers. As soon as the Newburg and 
Cochecton turnpike was completed, in 1810, many ad- 
ditions were made to the pioneer settlement. 

The town of Thompson was settled at Thompsonville 
by Judge Wm. A. Thompson in 1795, and named in his 
honor. He was Judge of Ulster County, and in 1809, 
when Sullivan was set off, he was appointed the first 
Judge of Sullivan County. 

CHILDREN LOST IN THE FOREST. 

Mrs. Mumford, of Wayne county, Pa., once sent her 
two little girls, aged six and four years, to a neighbor's, 
and in returning they lost their way and wandered off 
in the woods. The parents became very much fright- 
ened when it began to grow dark the few settlers 
collected and spent the entire night searching for them, 
but without success. The next day and the next night 
the search was resumed, and finally, on the third day, 
Mr. Mumford heard "Trip," the httle dog that was with 
the girls, bark, and called him. The dog came to his 
master, but the girls, fearing the voice was that of an 
Indian, hid in a clump of bushes. 

The anxious father then began calling, "Debora!" 
"Sarah!" and soon the little ones recognized the voice as 
that of their father, and came from their hiding place. 
They were nearly naked and so weak they could scarcely 
walk. 

They were taken home, where the mother's tears of 
grief were changed to acclamations of joy and thanks- 
giving to the Heavenly Parent who watched over and 

50 



saved her dear little ones, notwithstanding the fact they 
were sleeping in the wilderness, surrounded by ravenous 
wild beasts. 

The children told how they had made a bed of leaves 
beside a large log each night and after they lay down 
to sleep, how little "Trip" had lain down at their feet 
to keep watch. One night they were awakened by hear- 
ing little "Trip" growl. They looked up and saw two 
large wolves looking over the log at them. Their little 
guard barked so savagely that the "big dogs," as the 
children called them, ran away. They told how they 
had found berries to eat when they were so tired and 
weak with hunger that they could travel no further. 

HOW PROVIDENCE MADE PROVISION FOR THE PIONEERS 
FROM CONNECTICUT. 

Although these early settlers were far from anj'^ mar- 
ket, they were well supplied with meat from the forest, 
fish from the river and lakes, and sugar from the abund- 
ant maple groves. 

Mr. Drinker, a Quaker, sent a box of maple-sugar to 
Robert JM orris of Philadelphia with a request that it be 
forwarded to the President of the United States. His- 
tory does not state how it was sent ; but no doubt it went 
to Philadelphia on a raft of spar timber. The box was 
forwarded as requested and the President courteously 
acknowledged the gift as follows : 

"New York, June 18, 1790. 
"Sir: — Mr. Morris has presented me, in your name, 
with a box of maple-sugar, which I am much pleased to 
find of so good a quality. I request you to accept my 
thanks for this mark of attention; and being persuaded 
that considerable benefit may be derived to our country 
from a due prosecution of this promising object of in- 

51 



dustry, I wish every success to its cultivation, which the 
persons concerned in it can themselves desire. I am, 
Sir, your most obedient servant, 

"George Washington." 

The Quaker remarked to a friend, "So thou seeth how 
I am advanced to a correspondence with the King of 
America." 

SHEHAWKEN FOUNDED. 

Shehawken (Hancock), the salt emporium, was 
founded at an early date and other settlements grew out 
of the perseverance of the sturdy Connecticut pioneers. 

An association of settlers returned to Connecticut one 
autumn to spend the Winter and left one family by the 
name of Stanton in their log cabin, twelve miles from 
any neighbor. The family were reduced almost to star- 
vation in the Winter, when a hunter by the name of 
Church came along and found them. At first he did 
not know what to do to relieve the sufferers, but he re- 
membered seeing an elk-track on the road, and as the 
snow was very deep he soon overtook and shot it and 
gave it to the destitute family, and thus saved their lives. 

DESCRIPTION OF JOSEPH BRANT— A MOHAWK CHIEF. 

His personal appearance and bearing were well calcu- 
lated to inspire the respect and obedience of his savage 
followers. Captain Jeremiah Snyder, who, with his son, 
Elias, was made prisoner near Saugerties, and taken to 
Niagara, thus described this famous chief : 

"He was good looking, of fierce aspect, tall and rather 
spare, well-spoken and apparently about thirty years of 
age. He wore moccasins elegantly trimmed with beads, 
leggings and a breech-cloth of superfine blue, a short 
green coat, with two silver epaulets, and a small round 
laced hat. By his side was an elegantly silver mounted 
cutlass; and his blanket of blue cloth (purposely 

52 




\V 



vf'^ayn. 





dropped into the chair on which he sat to display his 
epaulets) was gorgeously adorned with a border of red. 
His language was very insulting." 

Brant has been denounced as an inhuman wretch. 
Even an English author attributes to him the atrocities 
of Wyoming. But great injustice has been done him. 
The charge of cruelty he always repelled with much 
indignation and a great number of instances can be ad- 
duced to show that although in battle he generally gave 
full scope to the murderous propensities of his follow- 
ers, he endeavored to mitigate the horrors of war when- 
ever he could do so without destroying his influence with 
his own race. When he invaded Minisink in 1779, he 
marked the aprons of little girls with his totem, and 
thus kept them from harm. By stratagem he saved Col. 
Harper, an old schoolmate, from the gauntlet. Even in 
battle he was ruled by the principles of Masonry. In 
1780 he returned from a raid on Harpersfield by the way 
of the Delaware, when he rebuked the Oneidas, who 
remained friendly to the Americans, for cruelty to non- 
combatants. He then wrote them the following letter 
in the Iroquois language : 

Be it known to you Bostonians that all the Inhabitants here 
of whom I had taken captives, I carry but few of them with me, 
and much greater part, who are feeble and incapable of war, 
I have set them at Liberty. It is a great shame to abuse the 
feeble ones. I have ahvays said so ever since we commenced to 
kill you. Many prisoners I have released, therefore you have 
greatly roused my wrath, in that you continue to abuse those 
who are like prisoners. Let it be no longer. So far you are 
men as well as we, and if you still persist to do so, I know not 
what may happen hereafter. 

(Signed) Joseph Brant. 
On the Delaware, April 15, 1780. 

Previous to August 21, 1788, Colonel Brant wrote a 

53 



letter from Oquaga to Colonel Jacob Klock, commander 
of a regiment of Tryon County militia,* from which we 
make this extract : 

"I am sorry, notwithstanding all the gentle usage we 
have from time to time given the prisoners we have taken 
from you and even letting many of them go home after 
we made (them) prisoners, that you who boast of being 
a civilized people have treated our people who were so 
unfortunate as to fall in your hands in a most inhuman 
manner, beating them after you had bound them ; but if 
you persist in waging M^ar after that manner, we will 
ere long convince you that our lenity proceeded from 
humanity, not fear." 

Providence made Brant an adroit strategist, and his 
native talent was strengthened and sharpened by the 
society and the learning of Europeans. He fell like a 
thunder-bolt upon his enemies and destroyed them. His 
blows were equally unexpected and disastrous. 

We do not propose to give a full account of his acts 
here. It is sufficient for our purpose to record no more 
than has a direct bearing on our own locality. 

In October, 1778, he crossed the wilderness from the 
Delaware to the Neversink, and passing down the latter, 
on the thirteenth of the month invaded Peenpack. His 
approach was discovered and a majority of the inhabi- 
tants fled to the blockhouses. Many were killed, among 
them w^as an old man named Swartwout and four of his 
sons. James, another son, escaped. In the Peenpack 
blockhouse were many women and children, and but nine 
men. Captain Abraham Cuddeback, the commander, 
caused the women to don men's attire and parade with 
his squad of militia in such a way that the enemy were 
led to believe that the "fort" was strongly garrisoned. 



^Changed 1784 to Montgomery Co. 

54) 



Brant, having no artillery, did not attack many of the 
blockhouses. 

INCIDENTS OF BRANT^S EAID ON MINISINK. 

The school was surprised, the teacher, Jeremiah Van 
Auken, taken some distance away and killed, and the 
scholars scattered in all directions. Two Indians were 
shot from the Van Auken fort, which was probably the 
cause of tliis outrage on the schoolmaster. 

Brant saw the little girls weeping by the dead body 
of their teacher and he came and dashed some black 
paint on their aprons, bidding them hold it up, when- 
ever they saw an Indian, as it would save them. The 
girls began to think about the safety of their brothers, 
and the boys were quickly assembled and the mark trans- 
ferred to their garments. Thus many of the children 
were spared, although some were made captives. 

James Swartwout, whose father and brothers were 
killed the following year, narrowly escape. He was in 
a blacksmith shop with a negro, when he discovered the 
Indians close at hand, and immediately climbed up into 
the chimney over the forge. 

The Indians entered the shop and, after taking such 
things as they fancied, one of them went to the bellows 
and began blowing at a rate that proved very uncom- 
fortable to Swartwout, who was nearly strangled with 
the charcoal smoke. Finally the negro induced him to 
do something else and Swartwout's life was saved. 

A man named Rolif Cuddeback was pursued some dis- 
tance into the woods by an Indian, who hurled his toma- 
hawk after him but missed the mark. The savage soon 
overtook him and they both grappled. They fought 
furiously, each striving to get possession of a knife that 
was in the Indian's belt. The knife fell to the ground 
and neither dared stoop to pick it up. They continued 

55 



the struggle until the savage was glad to retreat. It 
is said that the same Indian was shot at Lackawaxen on 
a horse stolen from Minisink. 

ADDRESS BY THE AUTHOR ON THE INVASION AND 
BATTLE OF MINISINK BEFORE THE M. V. H. S. FEB. 22, 1911. 

During the Revolutionary war the Indian confederacy, con- 
sisting of the Six Nations, was located in Central New York 
and in the Mohawk and Genesee valleys, and during the pre- 
liminary differences between England and the Colonies, which 
led up to that war, they remained neutral. To use their own 
expression : 

"The big tree was planted at Albany to which the chain of 
friendship was made fast and the council fire of the Indian con- 
federacy continued to buni until tlie breaking out of the war 
in 1775." 

The most powerful and warlike of these Indians were the 
Mohawks, who were subdivided into three tribes — the Wolf, 
the Bear and the Tortoise. Among the Wolf tribe there was a 
young chief known as Brant's Joseph, who had been educated 
at the Wheelock school in Connecticut, which developed into 
Dartmouth College. He had also visited England and studied 
the parliamentary rules and war tactics of the mother country. 

In England he received marked attention and, upon being 
promoted to the rank of Colonel in the British army, was easily 
persuaded to return to this country and raise an army among 
his own nation, who were inclined to side with England, on 
account of reports circulated among them by English traders 
that the Colonial army was about to invade the Mohawk 
Country. This army was commissioned at Fort Niagara, to 
make foraging expeditions in the surrounding country and 
secure supplies from the enemy. 

Brant at times associated with Buttler, a Tory who had 
escaped from an Albany prison and was very much embittered 
against the colonists. He had made several destructive raids 
at Oriskany, Cherry Valley and Wyoming, burning buildings 
and murdering inhabitants ; and in the Summer of 1778 ex- 
tended his depredations as far as the Delaware Valley, where he 
procured some plunder from Cochecton and Minisink, the only 
towns of any note at that time in the upper Minisink valley, 
and escaped without molestation. 

56 



Early in July, 1779, a very strong expedition was fitted out 
under the same wary chief, who, by his deeds of barbarity 
among the colonists, chilled the very blood in their veins, 
wherever the name of Brant was mentioned. 

This expedition was also commissioned at Fort Niagara and 
consisted of a strong troop of Indian and Tory cavalry, and 
a large band of Indian runners and these were to be followed 
by a large fleet of canoeists, who followed up the Genesee valley 
to the Susquenhanna carrying place, carried their canoes over 
and descended the Susquehanna to the Delaware carrying 
place ; thence down the Delaware valley to Minisink. 

There is no certainty, however, that the canoeists proceeded 
any further down the Delaware than the old Lackawaxen ford. 
Several spies who lay near Brant's army the night following 
the battle of Minisink, report that they saw the enemy on the 
next day removing their wounded in canoes up the river. 

On account of the raid on Minisink the year before, Count 
Pulaski had been stationed there with a troop of cavalry and 
had endeared himself to the people by nearly a year of watch- 
fulness among them. He was, however, recalled in the early 
Summer by Gen. Washington, to aid in suppressing hostilities 
along the southern coasts. This left the isolated villages of 
Cochecton and Minisink unprotected, except through a vigi- 
lance committee, which traveled the old Cochecton trail between 
the two hamlets occasionally, watching for signs of Indian out- 
rages and Tory atrocities. 

Minisink at that time was a small scattered hamlet of about 
twenty families, with several forts or blockhouses, to which 
the people retreated in case of an Indian outbreak or invasion. 
These hardy pioneers lived mostly by farming and stockrais- 
ing, most of them keeping slaves to perform the manual hard 
labor. 

On the 20th of July, 1779, when Brant and his savage 
horde came in sight of the place, the people were attending a 
funeral of one of their number and the first warning they had 
of the approach of an enemy was the smoke rising from their 
burning buildings. 

The women and children made a rush for the blockhouse and 
the men made a feeble defense, only to fall a prey, many of 
them, to the tomahawk. Many of the slaves who sought to con- 
ceal the stock on the farms were made captives and forced 

57 



to aid as stock drivers and plunder bearers. No less than 
twenty buildings, including the church, several sawmills, houses 
and bams, were burned and many of the people killed and 
scalped. 

The enemy having secured much plunder, such as bedding, 
provisions, horses and cattle, seized several captives, mostly 
women, children and slaves and began a hasty retreat up the 
Delaware River. They sent their prisoners and plunder in 
advance and encamped the night of the 20th at Grassy Brook, 
a small stream flowing into the Mongaup about five miles above 
Port Jervis. 

The speaker then digressed to tell the contemporaneous 
events transpiring with the Colonial forces, particularly as to 
the taking of Stony Point. Col. Hathorn's militia was at 
Warwick, following that victory, when word came from Mini- 
sink that the Indians were ravaging and burning the place and 
he gave orders for a forced march to their aid. He continued : 

TUSTEN MARCHES TO DEFENSE OF MINISINK. 

Col. Tusten, who was in command of the Goshen militia, re- 
ceived a similar dispatch fi'om Minisink and not only ordered 
his entire force to hasten to the defense, but called for vol- 
unteers ; and citizens left their shops, farms and stores to join 
in pursuit of Brant and his murderous band. 

Col. Hathorn says in his official report to Gov. Clinton that 
when he arrived at Minisink, the following day he found an 
army of about 120 men consisting of Col. Tusten's force from 
Goshen and Maj. Meeker's from New Jersey. A small force 
which had come down the river joined him later, increasing his 
forces to about 150 men. 

The force from Cochecton and vicinity was of inestimable 
value to Hathom's army, because they had a very thorough 
knowledge of the country, roads, streams, etc., of the upper 
Delaware Valley. Hathoni was informed about noon on the 
21st of July by the Cochecton scouts that Brant was march- 
ing up the river with prisoners and plunder and resolved on im- 
mediate pursuit. The Delaware being a very crooked stream 
and the scouts knowing of the old Cochecton trail running 
nearly direct over the hills, it was determined to push forward 
along the trail and if possible reach the Lackwaxen ford first, 
to give battle at that point and secure the prisoners and 
plunder. 58 




TUSTEN MARCHES TO DEFENSE OF MINISINK. 



The valiant army put forth ever3^ effort and by marching 
until twelve o'clock at night succeeded in reaching Skinner's 
Mills, now the beautiful Lochada and encamped for the night 
within three and one-half miles of the enemy, who had reached 
the mouth of Halfway Brook, now Barryville, and were within 
four miles of the ford.t 

The next morning, July 22, after a hurried breakfast, the 
Colonial militia pushed forward and came upon the enemy's 
camp fires, which were still smoldering, indicating that the foe 
was but a short distance in advance. They were, however, 
surprised to find that such a vast extent of ground had been 
occupied by Brant and for the first time realized that he had 
a much larger force than their own. 

A council was again held among the officers, questioning the 
wisdom of proceeding farther, but a bravado movement, led by 
Maj. Meeker, soon caused the pursuers to resume their march. 

Hathorn, knowing the treachery of Indian warfare, ordered 
his men to leave their horses and heavy equipage behind and 
keep on the high ground and they accordingly picked their way 
along the mountain side overlooking the Delaware Valley. They 
had not proceeded far when they discovered Brant's forces 
about three-fourths of a mile in advance, hurrying toward the 
ford. 

Capt. Tyler and some others advanced the idea that, as there 
is a great bend in the Delaware just below the ford, they could 
make time by going directly over the hill and they accordingly 
turned to the right and followed a small ravine known as Dry 
Brook, and made a last strenuous effort to head off the raiders. 

The Orange County militia was again disappointed, for when 
the men arrived in sight of the ford some of the Indians and 
much of their spoil was across in Pennsylvania. A part of the 
stock, guarded by a strong force in the rear, was yet on the 



$ This march must have nearly exhausted the little army. The pur- 
suit was commenced some time in the night. The papers left by Captain 
Abraham Cuddeback, and now in the possession of his descendants, show 
that the party reached the house of James Finch, at what is now Finch- 
ville, on the east side of the Shawangunk, in time for breakfast, and that 
he supplied them with salted provisions. From here they crossed the 
mountain, and reached the house of Major Decker, and then pushed on 
over the Indian trail seventeen miles farther. How many men of Orange 
and Sullivan, in these effeminate days, can endure such a tramp, encum- 
bered with guns and knapsacks? 

59 



east side of the river and Hathorn decided upon an immediate 
attack. 

He hurriedly divided his army into three divisions, placing 
one about 300 yards distant on his right flank, with Col. Tusten 
in command, and one on his left flank, with Col. or Judge 
Wisner in command. The division of the center Hathom 
commanded in person, with Capt. Tyler leading an advanced 
picket line. The captain unfortunately discharged his rifle, 
causing the Indians to discover their pursuers before the flank 
divisions could be properly posted and necessitated an im- 
mediate advance by the division of the center. Hawthorn 
ordered his men to fix bayonets and advance, and when within 
about 300 yards shouted "fire." 

The volley was very effective and caused many of the 
wounded to rush into the river without returning the fire. 
Hathorn, by his brilliant dash had recovered some of the 
stolen cattle and was proceeding to secure them, when he heard 
firing behind him and learned, much to his alarm, that the 
wary Brant had thrown himself in their rear and had attacked 
the two flanked divisions, driving one entirely out of the en- 
gagement and the other down the hill precipitately toward the 
river. 

Brant then came out in full view and addressing himself to 
the Colonial commander, demanded the surrender of the entire 
army. Before the Mohawk had finished his demand a bullet 
from one of the militia pierced his belt and he immediately 
withdrew, but was soon afterward heard in tones of thunder 
calling to his retreating forces across the river to return and 
join in the battle. The forces from Pennsylvania were soon 
seen recrossing the river and having collected in force began 
a sort of bush firing. 

Hathom was now obliged to collect all liis forces in one 
division and both armies began a series of flank movements, 
each striving to gain the higher ground, until they reached an 
eminence nearly a mile from the river. The brave Capt. Tyler 
was killed in one of these flank movements and several were 
wounded. 

Hathom perceived at this juncture that his men, who were 
suff'ering from heat and thirst, were also very much fatigued 
and withdrew to a small plateau. Here he hastily collected his 
wounded, drew up his army into a hollow square and threw up 

60 



some rough breastworks. This ground, although of a rough, 
rocky structure, on account of its depressions on all sides except 
the north, proved to be a very advantageous battleground. 

The Indian forces tried every stratagem to carry these works, 
which they completely surrounded and often charged from 
opposite directions to within forty or fifty yards, when they 
were repulsed with great slaughter. Here several men were 
killed and many wounded, and Dr. Tusten, who was an army 
surgeon, improvised a hospital under a rock, and having col- 
lected the wounded, who were suffering much from loss of 
blood and heat, began to administer to their needs, notwith- 
standing the fact that he had also received a serious wound in 
his hand. 

This depleted army, reduced to about forty-five men, officers 
included, defended this ground for three and one-half hours and 
the Indians began to show signs of preparation to withdraw 
their forces. Col. Hathorn, knowing the ammunition must 
be nearly exhausted, from a constant firing of more than five 
hours, ordered his men not to fire a shot unless they were sure 
of their mark. 

This cessation of the firing caused the enemy to make another 
charge, and just before sunset Brant massed his entire strength 
on Hathom's north, which was the only place where a charge 
could be made without climbing a hill, and with terrorizing 
threats against the Yankees and hideous yells they swooped 
down into the very midst of the square. Here the exhausted lit- 
tle army received them with fixed bayonets and clubbed muskets, 
holding them in check for some time. 

Col. Tusten, seeing the advantage the Indians had gained, 
called Capt. Cuddeback and requested him to try to stop the 
retreat. This was impossible, for it had become too general. 

Here I wish to pay a tribute to one of the greatest of Revolu- 
tionary heroes, Col. Benjamin Tusten, for what requires greater 
heroism than to stay on the field of battle and die for friends? 
I can imagine I see that faithful physician standing at his post, 
where such a high and important duty had placed him, watch- 
ing the receding forms of the routed army as it retreated pre- 
cipitately down the hill toward the river. That this brave man 
never left his post of duty was made evident by the fact that 
forty-three years after the battle the bones of eighteen skeletons 
were found at the Hospital Rock on the field where he died de- 
fending his wounded companions. 

61 



Prof. Twichell, in closing, read an extract from the 
report of Col. Hathorn to Gov. Clinton* depicting 
the terrors of the battle and commending the bravery of 
the men. He also quoted from his own forthcoming 
book, "History of the Minisink Country," the follow- 
ing: 

"There was no glorj^ in the battle of Minisink. For 
the Colonists there was naught but defeat and disaster, 
and for their foe a partially satisfied thirst for human 
blood. Although the Colonists fought in a just cause 
and with unparalleled heroism to drive a plundering 
foe from their homes and recover their stolen stock, 
there was no glory in the battle for them. For they felt 
their army was destroyed and many of their comrades 
slain. 

All who heard the Mohawk chief, when the battle was 
pressing hard on his braves, calling for those guarding 
the spoils across the river to return and reinforce him, 
never forgot the thunderous tones of his powerful voice. 
And there was no glory in the battle for the Savages 
and Tories, for although they gained a victory, in a 
sense of the word, yet the cries of their wounded and 
the bodies of their dead on and about the battlefield 
convinced them that the victory was dearly bought. 



*"Dear Governor, it's not in my power to point out to you the disagree- 
able situation I was in, surrounded by a foe, with such a handful of valu- 
able men, not onh' as soldiers but as fellow citizens and members of 
society, and nothing to be expected but the hatchet, spear and scalping- 
knife. The tremendous yells and whoops! All the fiends in the confines of 
the Infernal Region, with one united cry, could not exceed it. Add to this 
the cries and petitions of the wounded around me, not to leave them, was 
beyond parallel or idea. My heart bleeds for the unfortunate wounded 
who fell into their hands. However, circumstances give me a little con- 
solation. Mr. Rodger Townsend of Goshen received a wound in his thigh: 
being exceedingly thirsty, making an attempt to go to find some water, 
was met by an Indian, who, very friendly, took him by the hand and said 
he was his prisoner and would not hurt him. A well directed ball from 
one of our men put the Indian into a dose and Mr. Townsend ran back 
to the lines. I hope some little humanity may yet be found in the breasts 
of the savages. I should be at the greatest loss was I to attempt to point 
out any officer or soldier who exceeded another in bravery during the 
time of the general action. Too much praise cannot be given them for 
their attention in receiving orders and alacrity in executing them." 

62 



For there were nearly as many of Brant's army slain 
as the entire number of Colonial troops engaged in the 
conflict. And although the Revolution lasted for four 
years after tlus battle they never made a subsequent 
raid on Minisink. 

They had made a raid on the unprotected inhabitants 
of the Minisink valley the year before and escaped with 
their plunder immolested. But the battle of Minisink 
was such an effectual chastisement to them that they 
were glad to get back to Fort Niagara. 

Had the ammunition of the whites held out a little 
longer they would have won a decisive victory and re- 
covered their own. Their hearts were bleeding from 
the fact that all of their wounded whose suffering was 
not ended by the merciless tomahawk were left unat- 
tended and unguarded to die a lingering death far from 
home and friends. And the disaster cast such a gloom 
over the entire Minisink region that it was many years 
before even an effort was made to collect and bury the 
dead. 

The fact that the whites M'^ere unable to recover their 
property depressed them ver^'^ much; but what wrung 
their hearts most and caused the bitterest sorrow was 
bearing the news to those bereaved that their loved ones 
were slain or dying of wounds in a dense wilderness and 
left to the mercy of a savage foe or the ravages of wild 
animals. 

ACROSTIC 

To Benjamin Tusten, by the Author. 

Bravery is not in sounding words but deeds; 
Every man should do, not say, his part. 
Not every one that strives succeeds, 
Just in the consumation of his art. 
Answer every query of your busy life, 
Making those who question more sincere; 
In the din or lull of battle strife. 
Naught but gallant spirits give good cheer. 

Tusten laid his sword and gun aside 

63 



Under the shadow rock upon the field, 
Soothed his wounded and, himself, denied 
'Till his long lamented fate was sealed. 
Every son should drop, for him, a tear 
'Neath Hospital rock, where was his bier. 

CONFUSION OF DATES IN REFERENCE TO THE MINISINK 
INVASION AND BATTLE. 

According to records recently found by Victor M. 
Drake there must have been at least a warning of 
Brant's coming to Minisink as early as the 17th, or 
three days before he actually appeared. The order is 
as follows: 

"To Caleb Goldsmith, Sergt. : You are hereby requested to 
warn your class and march to Minisink, hereof fail not as you 
will answer the county. 

Given under my hand this 17th day of July, 1779. 

Samuel Jones, Captain. 

The fact that Benjamin Dunning, one of the class, 
was killed in the battle is evidence that this order was 
carried out. The alarm which caused this order may 
have come from some outposts where Brant had made 
his appearance. 

THE MINISINK BATTLE. 

There are several reasons why the Minisink battle 
was one of the most noted battles of the Revolution. 
In the first place the alarm of Brant's invasion and the 
call for Hathorn's army to march to Minisink came just 
after *Gen. Washington had ordered that commander 



*Gen. Washington had planned the capture of Stony Point and Gen. 
Anthony Wayne (Mad Anthony) by a brilliant dash had taken the fort 
and captured 600 prisoners. As this happened only 5 or six days before 
the battle of Minisink it is supposed that Washington was sending a por- 
tion of these prisoners to the Easton prison on the Delaware, when he 
sent the order to the Warwick commander for him to furnish a guard of 
100 men to accompany them to their destination. This order was very 
unfortunate for Hathorn and his army and there is not the slightest doubt 
but the "Father of his Country" would have countermanded the order, had 
he known of the urgent need of these three companies at the impending 
battle which took place a few days later. 

64 



to detail one hundred men of his regiment for a guard 
to escort British prisoners to Easton. This deprived 
Col. Hathorn of one company that he should have had 
in the battle, and it is evident that if he had marched 
against Brant with his entire army he would have won 
the battle and destroyed the devastating band. As it 
afterward proved, according to Hathorn's official re- 
port, if the ammunition had not run short, or if Col. 
Seward, who was hurrying to his aid with ninety-three 
men, had not been detained by a mutiny which arose 
among the soldiers, he most assuredh^ would have been 
a victor. 

In the second place the battle was fought in a rocky 
wilderness where the Indians who were accustomed to 
stratagem could take every advantage. 

The incident of the battle related by Daniel Myers, 
one of the survivors of the battle, gives some of the ad- 
vantages taken by the Savages. Tliis incident also bears 
out Col. Hathorn in what he says in his report about 
Brant being reinforced from Cochecton, for the Tories 
of that settlement had numerous slaves. Daniel Myers 
lived many years after the battle and was one of the 
committee appointed to gather the bones in 1822. He 
said, "The tightest place I got into in the battle was 
just after Brant's reinforcements came. I was sta- 
tioned behind a tree with considerable open space around 
me on all sides, firing at the enemy whenever a head or 
even a feather appeared from behind a rock or tree. 
All at once I saw a negro dart behind a large tree, after 
he had fired a shot at me which was evidently a running 
shot and went wide of the mark. This caused me to 
move further around the tree and in an instant a ball 
from another direction struck the tree, which not only 
glanced and wounded me but filled my eyes with bark 
and dust. There I was for several moments between 

65 



two fires: an Indian on one side and a negro on the 
other, but I managed by taking advantage of the one 
with the empty gun to kill them both." When the re- 
treat begun I managed to make my way to the river 
and swim across, holding my gun up with one arm." 

Another reason why this battle was noted was the 
fact that, although the Indians and Tories succeeded in 
routing the Orange County militia and murdering so 
many of them as prisoners, the enemy's loss in killed and 
wounded was so great that Brant himself acknowledged, 
afterward, the battle was a great calamity to his army. 

Col. Seward and others who lay near Brant's en- 
campment the night following the battle, and saw the 
Savages the next day bearing away the wounded in 
canoes, reported that his loss was very great. They 
said the ground where the enemy encamped the night of 
July 22d was strewn with bloody rags and plasters and 
clots of blood so that the whole surroundings gave evi- 
dence of great suffering and a great number of dead and 
wounded. 

There has been a tendency among historians to pic- 
ture Hathorn's retreat as a rout bordering almost on 
annihilation ; but from that commander's own statement 
in reference to the retreat, the conditions have been mis- 
represented. 

He said, in speaking about the enemj^ having forced 
the north line of the hollow square: "Here we gave 
them a severe gaul. Our people, not being able to sup- 
port the lines, retreated down the hill precipitately 
toward the river. The enemy kept up a constant fire on 
our right, which was returned." And in another part 
of his report he tells about rescuing some of the stolen 
cattle and returning them to the owners at Minisink. 



m 



DEATH OF JUDGE WISNER. 

Brant killed *Gabriel Wisner with his own hand. In 
after years, while on a visit to New York, he declared 
that he found Wisner, when the battle was over, so 
badly wounded that he could not live or be removed; 
that if he was left alone on the field the wild beasts 
would devour him; that he was in full possession of all 
his faculties ; that for a man to be eaten while alive by 
ravenous beasts was terrible; and that to save Wisner 
from such a fate he engaged him in conversation and, 
when unobserved, struck liim dead. Such barbarous 
mercy may seem strange to us ; but it is not inconsistent 
with the character of a semi-civiHzed Savage. 

Captain Benjamin Vail was wounded in the battle, 
and after the rout was found seated upon a rock and 
bleeding. He was killed while in this situation by a 

Tory. 

Several of the fugitives were shot while attempting 
to escape by swimming the Delaware. Of those en- 
gaged in the battle, thirty escaped and forty-five, it is 
known, were killed. The balance were taken prisoners 
or perished while fugitives in the wilderness. Among 
the killed was Moses Thomas, 2d, a son of the pioneer 
of that name, who was shot near the old Cushetunk 
blockhouse. The son was slain by a Tory named Cor- 
nelius Cole. 

Major Wood of the militia, though not a Mason, ac- 
cidentally gave the Masonic sign of distress. This was 
observed by Brant. Faithful to his pledge, the red 
Master saved Wood's life and gave him his own blanket 
to protect him from the night air while sleeping. He 

*Gabriel Wisner was a verv eccentric man and years before the battle 
01 Minisink he made himself very obnoxious to the British crown by 
takina: a sledge and breaking a keystone which the English king had sent 
over from Europe for the arch in the jail building the people of Orange 
County were constructing at Goshen. 

67 



two fires: an Indian on one side and a negro on the 
other, but I managed by taking advantage of the one 
with the empty gun to kill them both." When the re- 
treat begun I managed to make my way to the river 
and swim across, holding my gun up with one arm." 

Another reason why this battle was noted was the 
fact that, although the Indians and Tories succeeded in 
routing the Orange County militia and murdering so 
many of them as prisoners, the enemy's loss in killed and 
wounded was so great that Brant himself acknowledged, 
afterward, the battle was a great calamity to his army. 

Col. Seward and others who lay near Brant's en- 
campment the night following the battle, and saw the 
Savages the next day bearing away the wounded in 
canoes, reported that his loss was very great. They 
said the ground where the enemy encamped the night of 
July 22d was strewn with bloody rags and plasters and 
clots of blood so that the whole surroundings gave evi- 
dence of great suffering and a great number of dead and 
wounded. 

There has been a tendency among historians to pic- 
ture Hathorn's retreat as a rout bordering almost on 
annihilation ; but from that commander's own statement 
in reference to the retreat, the conditions have been mis- 
represented. 

He said, in speaking about the enemj^ having forced 
the north line of the hollow square: "Here we gave 
them a severe gaul. Our people, not being able to sup- 
port the lines, retreated down the hill precipitately 
toward the river. The enemy kept up a constant fire on 
our right, which was returned." And in another part 
of his report he tells about rescuing some of the stolen 
cattle and returning them to the owners at Minisink. 



66 



DEATH OF JUDGE WISNER. 

Brant killed *Gabriel Wisner with his own hand. In 
after years, while on a visit to New York, he declared 
that he found Wisner, when the battle was over, so 
badly wounded that he could not live or be removed; 
that if he was left alone on the field the wild beasts 
would devour him; that he was in full possession of all 
his faculties; that for a man to be eaten while alive by 
ravenous beasts was terrible; and that to save Wisner 
from such a fate he engaged him in conversation and, 
when unobserved, struck liim dead. Such barbarous 
mercy may seem strange to us ; but it is not inconsistent 
with the character of a semi-civilized Savage. 

Captain Benjamin Vail was wounded in the battle, 
and after the rout was found seated upon a rock and 
bleeding. He was killed while in this situation by a 
Tory. 

Several of the fugitives were shot while attempting 
to escape by swimming the Delaware. Of those en- 
gaged in the battle, thirt}^ escaped and forty-five, it is 
known, were killed. The balance were taken prisoners 
or perished while fugitives in the wilderness. Among 
the killed was Moses Thomas, •2d, a son of the pioneer 
of that name, who was shot near the old Cushetunk 
blockhouse. The son was slain by a Tory named Cor- 
nelius Cole. 

Major Wood of the militia, though not a INIason, ac- 
cidentally gave the INIasonic sign of distress. This was 
observed by Brant. Faithful to his pledge, the red 
Master saved Wood's life and gave him his own blanket 
to protect him from the night air while sleeping. He 



*Gabriel Wisner was a very eccentric man and years before the battle 
or Minisink he made himself very obnoxious to the British crown by 
taking a sledge and breaking a keystone which the English king had sent 
over from Europe for the arch in the jail building the people of Orange 
County were constructing at Goshen. 

67 



subsequently discovered that Wood was not one of the 
brotherhood and denounced him as dishonorable, but 
spared his Hfe. (After his release, Wood assumed the 
obligations of this ancient and honorable fraternity.) 
The blanket was accidentally damaged while in the pris- 
oner's possession, which made Brant very angry. He 
then treated Wood w^ith much harshness. 

One of the militia attempted to escape with the 
others, but was so exhausted he was obliged to turn 
aside to rest. In a httle while he saw one Indian after 
another running in the direction liis friends had gone. 
They continued to pass until a very powerful Savage 
discovered him, when the man fired his last shot and fled. 
The red man did not follow. He was probably disabled 
by the shot, if not Idlled. The name of this militiaman 
we beheve was Cuddeback. 

* Samuel Helrri, of the Mamakating family of that 
name, and a grandson of Manuel Gonsalus, the first 
settler of that town, was wounded, but being an expert 
woodman as well as Indian fighter, escaped. He was 
stationed behind a tree, when he saw an Indian thrust his 
head from behind a neighboring trunk and peer around 
as if looking for a chance to shoot a patriot. The Sav- 
age had on his neck what appeared to be a black silk 
handkerchief. At this Helm fired. Much to his satis- 
faction, the Indian fell upon the ground, apparently 



From Quinlin's Sullivan County. 

* Helm, in relating the adventure to our informant (Lawrence Masten) 
said the astonishment of the redskin when he was imexpectedly confronted 
with the muzzle of the gun was truly ridiculous. Helm then managed to 
get to a piece of low land near the battlefield, and finally to the river. 
His trail was made plain by his own blood. He knew he would be fol- 
lowed and killed if he did not baffle his pursuers. He therefore plunged 
into the river and managed to pass down some distance with the current. 
Then he got ashore and hid among the rocks. As he anticipated, the Sav- 
ages tracked him to the river bank, where he saw them hold a brief con- 
sultation and look up and down the stream. Not seeing him, they turned 
back, and he saw them no more. Here he managed to stop the flow of 
blood from his wound and remained until it was safe to commence his 
lonely and weary journey back to the valley of the Neversink. He 
reached it after much suffering. 

68 



dead; but not much to his satisfaction, he himself was 
immediately shot through one of his thighs by another 
of Brant's men. The wound seemed to take away sen- 
sation and strength from the limb, and Helm dropped 
to the earth, but kept behind his natural breastw^ork. 
The Indian did not at once rush up to scalp Helm, being- 
anxious to ascertain first w^hether it was safe to do so. 
This gave the wliite man a chance to reload his rifle. 
After dodging around a little, the other made a dash 
for Helm's scalp; but instead of getting it, received a 
bullet which put an end to his life. 

Benjamin Whitaker, who afterwards lived and died 
at Deposit, was wounded during the day, but kept on 
fighting until he became sick and faint from the loss of 
blood. He then retired to a safe place, where he 
staunched the blood with tow from his cartridge box, 
and binding up the wound with a handkerchief, again 
joined eagerly in the fight. 

John Whitaker (a brother of Benjamin) was in the 
hottest of the battle, and, although he received nine bul- 
let holes through his hat and clothes, escaped uninjured. 

Allusion has been made to Sullivan's expedition 
against the hostile tribes of the Six Nations in the Sum- 
mer of 1779. He passed through Warwarsing, Mama- 
kating and Deerpark; crossed the Delaware; follow^ed 
it down to Easton; then w^ent to Wyoming, where his 
army numbered three thousand ; from the latter place he 
conveyed his artillery and stores up the Susquehanna to 
Tioga Point, where he arrived about fifteen days after 
the battle, near the mouth of the Lackawaxen. Here he 
waited for the division of his army under General James 
Clinton. Clinton marched by the way of Canajoharie, 
Lake Otsego and the Susquehanna to Tioga Point, 
which he reached on the 22d of August. Brant, in re- 
turning to Canada, was too shrewd to follow the road 

69 



blocked by these forces. A few days after the battle 
on the banks of the Delaware, and while Clinton was 
delayed at Lake Otsego, he fell upon a village in the 
JNIohawk Valley. Therefore, he must have avoided the 
Susquehanna and continued on up the Delaware, prob- 
ably following the West or Mohawk branch, and around 
Clinton's rear. 

Abraham Bennett was a boy at the time of the battle 
of jNIinisink; but when Tusten was leaving Goshen he 
became very anxious to join the expedition against 
Brant; and having had some experience in the fife and 
drum corps, he begged his father, *Benjamin Bennett, 
who was one of the militia, to let him go as drummer 
boy. The drum corps did not go any farther than jNIini- 
sink. There they were advised by Capt. Tyler and his 
men, who had come down the Delaware Valley from 
Cochecton, to return home, as the march of the army 
would be through a vast wilderness and the hardships 
would be too great for their endurance. 

BRITISH EXAGGERATE HATHORN'S DEFEAT. 

The British in New York published a very exagger- 
ated account of the Minisink battle, which is, in part, as 
follows: "A person just arrived from Joseph Brant and 



* Benjamin Bennett was severely wounded in the thigh, and when the 
retreat began, after the battle, he besought one of his companions to aid 
him in making his escape. The wounded inan clung to his friend, thinking 
that if he could reach water and slake his thirst he would have strength 
sufficient to get away into the forest and hide for the night and proceed 
toward home the next morning. They succeeded in getting as far as a 
spring (supposed to be the large one east of the plateau on the Twichell 
farm) when they heard the enemy coming close upon them. 

Mr. Bennett, being very much exhausted and knowing what his fate 
would be, drew his pocketbook from his pocket and handing it to his 
friend, said, "Flee for your life and, if you reach Goshen, give this to my 
wife." His companion, reluctantly, took it from his hand and fled, but 
before he was out of hearing, the death yell reached his ears' and he 
knew Benjamin Bennett was dispatched by the cruel tomahawk. His 
friend reached home after great suffering to deliver the pocketbook and 
bring the sorrowful news to Mrs. Bennett that she was a widow and her 
children orphans. 

70 



his brethren stated that Erant had with him only sixty 
Indians and twenty white men." The same account gives 
the following returns: "Among the principaL inhabi- 
tants killed were Col. Benjamin Tusten, Jr., Capt. 
Sam'l Jones, Capt. Jno. Little, Capt. Jno. Wood, Capt. 
Duncan, Capt. Benj. Vail, Capt. Reat Tyler, Adj. 
Nath'l Fink, Lieut. Benj. Dunning, Lieut. Sam'l 
Knapp, Lieut. Jno. Wood, Lieut. Abraham Shepherd, 
Justice Gab. Wisner, Justice Roger Townsend, Justice 
Wm. Barker, Com'r Jas. Knapp, Com'r Jas. Moshier 
and Gilbert A'^ail. Wounded, Maj. Hans Decker, ]Maj. 
Sam'l JNIeeker of the :Minisink Militia. Out of 149 that 
went out 30 returned — missing 119." 

Hathorn's report of the missing gives 21 men. It 
seems a delicate task to reconcile either of these reports 
with the names inscribed on the old Goshen monument, 
which are 44 in number. 

It has also been claimed that some of the 44 names 
there inscribed have been found on old deeds and records 
which were executed by them long after the battle was 
fought; but as the commander himself was there when 
the old monimient was erected and laid the cornerstone, 
and was, no doubt, consulted with reference to the num- 
ber of the slain, we cannot dispute the record on the 
enduring stone. 

It would seem that Col. Hathorn made his report 
from the soldiers and citizens who were missing from 
Warwick, Goshen and the immediate vicinity, and after- 
ward learned of the other 23 men; because he does not 
seem to have included JMatthew Terwilliger, of Mini- 
sink, and several others of Cochecton and vicinity in 
his report. Another version which might afford a rea- 
sonable conciliation, is that during the forty-three years 
which elapsed between the battle and the burial all those 
who may have died from their wounds received in that 

71 



engagement may have been counted worthy to have 
their names placed on the monument to perpetuate their 
memory. 

A PRISONER'S PERIL. 

In the evening after the battle the monster Brant was 
proceeding to tie JMaj. Wood by brute force. The 
Major remonstrated, said: "I am a gentleman and 
promise not to escape." He was not tied but laid be- 
tween two Indians, and told that should he attempt to 
escape he should be tomahawked. The blanket on 
which he lay took fire in the night, but he dared not 
move lest the tomahawk should cleave liis brain. 

He lay still until the fire reached his feet. He then 
kicked it out, without disturbing his guard. It was 
Brant's blanket and ever after the Chief treated him 
very harshh\ When INIaj. Wood asked Brant why he 
maltreated him so. Brant, flying into a passion, replied 
with an oath, "Because you burnt my blanket!" 

Wood's life was spared by accidentally giving the 
Masonic sign to Brant, who was a member of that order. 
When the Mohawk learned that Wood was not a ]\Iason 
he treated the prisoner with withering scorn. Wood 
lived to return to his family in Goshen after the close of 
the war. 

Through the courtesy of Att'y J. W. Gott of Goshen, 
who is a descendant of Col. Tusten, the author is able 
to give the legible parts of Wood's Journal which he 
brought back with him from Canada. 

"I left home July ye 20, 1779, and was taken the twenty- 
second, about eighteen miles above Menesing after a severe 
conflict which laster almost the whole day. I received two 
wounds, one before I was taken and one after I was taken, and 
had the mortification of seeing several of my countrymen 
tomahawked and one after he had been a prisoner some time — • 
the 23 marcht to Kashaton — from thence up the Kukhous 

72 



Branch to Kukhous, where we arrived 27 — from thence to the 
Susquehanah River — At this place Capt. Brant left us and went 
up the river with a small scout and I was left with Capt. Wm. 

Johnson, an Indian, who used kindly. We set off down the 

river and ye 31 *Tuscororor John, an Indian chief died of 

his wounds, —a Chomong an Indian town His gun — 

I lay at this place till ye 10 of August, during which I suffered 

much with hunger. I was obliged to eat hides that was S . 

I was sent away in the night to another Indian town called 
Shokonot. At this place I was left in care of Capt. huff, a 
white man. Left this place ye 13 in the morning and was made 
to run 5 or six miles withdut stopping, with three Indians be- 
hind me and two before — accuse of this was an alarm. I ar- 
rived at Catherine town the same day I was again put in care 
of a white man and left this place ye 16. Met Buttler's 
rangei's and a number of Indians goin to meet the American 

army, ye 17 reached an Indian town called nnel Orchard." 

(At this point the page is illegible.) The unfortunate prisoner 
speaks of a lake — an Indian town and a boat near a river under 
the command of Lieut. Fry, and allowance of half a pint of 
oatmeal each day. Here received some clothing, for he was 
stripped when taken. Was made to row when weak with 
hunger. Saw Col. Stacy, who was taken prisoner at Cherry 
Valley- Drew cloth for shirt but was a long time before he 
could get it made. Was for some time clad with all articles 
of clothing except pants. Finally arrived at Fort Niagara was 
escorted to large stone house by guard. Complains of being 
confined in dungeon with several others with very bad air. Was 
removed to Montreal and from thence to St. Johns. (The 
latter part of book is gone, but it is known from history that 
Wood was exchanged for a prisoner who was confined at Albany 
and returned to Goshen about 1783 at the close of the Revolu- 
tion. It is intimated by some letters, wi-itten by ]Maj. Wood 
wliich are also in possession of ^Ir. Gott, tliat the Continental 
Congress by a special act made provision for the widows and 
orphans caused by the battle of Minisink and some otlier battles 
of the Revolution by offering large tracts of Government land 
to such as would move on it and occupy it. 



* Tuscororor John, no doubt, was the chief who was wounded and mis- 
taken by Col. Hathorn for Brant; for the Commander says in his report 
to Gov. Clinton, "The Indians were under the command of Brant, who 
was either killed or wounded in the action." 



THE GATHERING OF THE BONES OF THE SLAIN. 

The following extract is from the Independent Re- 
puhliean of Goshen, dated April 29, 1822: 

"All the bones that could be found of the brave men who 
fell in the battle of Minisink were collected from the battle- 
ground on Wednesday last and brought to the village on the 
day following. They are now in possession of the committee, 
with whom they will remain until the aniversary of the day upon 
which the battle was fought. 

In securing the bones, neither pains nor expense were spared. 
The party traveled about forty miles the first day and half of 
that distance was a complete wilderness. They put up for 
the night at Mrs. Watkins', who lived about six miles from 
the battle ground to which they proceeded the next morning. 

Some left their horses behind, it being very difficult to get 
along with a horse. 

The country around was a complete wilderness, scarcel}^ ex- 
hibiting a trace of human footsteps. 

The battle was commenced on the bank of the Delaware op- 
posite the mouth of the Lackawack and terminated about three- 
quarters of a mile from the river. It was a matter of astonish- 
ment to many of the party when they were shown the course 
taken by our troops. Some of the descents are really fright- 
ful. Most of the bones were found on the ground where the 
battle was fought ; but some were found some distance away, 
which undoubtedly belonged to the wounded who had died from 
hunger and fatigue." 

All of the bones of the unburied slain were not found 
by the Orange County Committee in April, 1822, for 
about twenty years after some hunters reported to the 
citizens of Barry ville, N. Y., that other bones had been 
located, and these citizens organized a party to go to 
the battleground and collect them and bring them to 
that town. They then set apart a certain day and ar- 
ranged for public services in which many public men 
took part. After the ceremonies and in accordance with 
the programme the bones were then interred in the old 

74 



burying ground in the rear of the Congregational 
Church. 

Several years afterward, about 1847, the time of the 
enlargement of the Delaware and Hudson Canal, an- 
other skeleton was found by the late Isaac Mills of 
Lackawaxen. He was searching for N. B. Johnston's 
cows in the mountainside about opposite the mouth of 
the Lackawaxen River, when he discovered a complete 
skeleton under a ledge of rocks. There was no doubt 
about tliis being one of the unfortunate w^ounded of the 
Minisink militia, because there still remained sufficient 
traces of his army equipment to determine that he had 
been a soldier. 

Mr. INIills reported to his employer what he had 
found, and acted as a guide to a party of canal em- 
ployees who brought the remains to Lackawaxen, where 
they made a coffin and placed them in their final rest- 
ing place in the old burying ground on the river bank 
in front of the Odd Fellows Lodge in Lackawaxen. 

THE INDIAN DEAD. 

It was not positively known where the Indians buried 
their dead until the Delaware and Hudson Canal was 
constructed in 1828, when the workmen accidentally 
dug into their trenches as they were excavating for the 
locks in front of the DelaM^are House, near Lacka- 
waxen. Traces of these old locks may yet be seen on 
the point at the confluence of the two rivers. The dead 
warriors were not only found in these trenches, but 
many of the weapons of their savage warfare, such as 
spear-heads, arrow-heads, tomahawks, etc. 

BONES DISCOVERED AROUND A SPRING. 

A number of years after the battle, while many of 
the survivors were still living, a scouting party was or- 

75 



ganized at Minisink to visit the place of the conflict. 
In returning they stopped in the house of Joseph 
Cowen at Handsome Eddy and related what they had 
seen on the battleground. In some places parts of 
skeletons were preserved by being in swampy places, 
in others by being under ledges. One body was dis- 
covered near where the present monument now stands, 
with a rude wall around it, as if honored by a rude burial 
on account of some gallant deed. 

Joseph Carpenter, who lived on the Beaver brook, 
where the old "Cochecton Trail" crossed that stream, 
and who helped the Orange County Committee in gath- 
ering the bones, told of this particular incident, and 
pointed out the rude sepulchre to the late Samuel West 
of Yulan, N. Y. Traces of this enclosure were quite 
plain until 1879, the workmen, through some misunder- 
standing, used these stones as well as other parts of the 
breastworks in building the monument. 

The author has every reason to believe that the heroic 
*Dr. Tusten may have been honored by Brant and his 
followers and their appreciation of bravery shown in 
that way. 

INCIDENTS OF THE ROUT AND RETREAT. 

Capt. Abraham Cuddeback was called to consult with 
Dr. Tusten about trying to rally the men just as the 
retreat began, and consequently was the last man to 
leave the ground. He was very hotly pursued by the 
Savages and ran in the direction his men had gone until 
he was entirely exhausted. He then stepped a short 
distance out of the path, cocked his gun and waited for 
some time without being discovered. He saw the In- 



* Dr. Tusten was Surrogate of Orange County at the time of his death 
and held other prominent positions in society. He left a wife and several 
children, the yoimgest of which never saw her father. 

76 



dians one after another running in the direction the 
white had gone. Finally a large and powerful Savage 
turned and caught a glimpse of him, when he fired his 
last shot and fled. The Indian did not follow, so he 
was supposed to be either killed or severely wounded. 
The Captain continued his course toward the river until 
he came to very steep rocks. He then slid down where 
he found a good place of concealment. Here he stayed 
until it grew dark, when he proceeded home. 

John Wallace, of JMinisink, was severely wounded 
and became separated from his. captain, in the retreat. 
During the battle these two men managed to keep to- 
gether and each acted as a guard of the other. Occa- 
sionally the captain would warn his companion to keep 
back, but he would exclaim as he sallied out seeking an- 
other opportunity to fire. "I want to get at them." "If 
I can only get sight of them." 

The next day Captain Cuddeback reached Minisink 
and reported all he knew of John Wallace to the 
anxious wife and children. For three days they mourned 
for the missing man, when unexpectedly he came home 
with three deerskins on his back, to the great joy of his 
family and friends. He had hunted on his way home 
and feasted on roasted venison. 

GEN. HATHORN'S ADDRESS AT THE BURIAL OF THE BONES 
AT GOSHEN, JULY 22, 1822. 

At the end of three and forty years, we have assembled to 
perform the sad rites of sepulture to the bones of our country- 
men and kindred. But these alone are not sufficient; policy 
has united with the gratitude of nations in erecting some 
memorial of the virtues of those, who died in defending their 
country. Monuments to the brave are mementoes to their 
descendants ; the honors they record are stars to the patriot in 
the path of glory. Beneath the mausoleum whose foundation 
we now lay, repose all that was earthly of patriots and heroes. 

77 



This honor has been long their due, but circumstances, which 
it is unnecessary for me to recount, have prevented an earlier 
display of the gratitude of their country. Having command on 
that melancholy occasion, Avhich bereft the nation of so many 
of its brightest ornaments — having been the companion of 
their suffering in a pathless desert, and a witness of their valor 
against a savage foe of superior numbers, I approach the duty 
assigned me with mingled feeling of sadness and pleasure. 

May this monument endure with the liberties of our countrv ; 
when they perish, this land will be no longer worthy to hold 
within its bosom the consecrated bones of its heroes. 

ADDRESS OF DR. WILSON (ORATOR OF THE DAY), DE- 
LIVERED TO ABOUT 15,000 PEOPLE ON THE 
SAME OCCASION. 

Forty-three years ago this day and at this very hour 
of the day, the brave men, whose bones are enclosed in these 
coffins, were not only hazarding, but sacrificing their lives for 
the protection of their wives, their children, their homes, and 
their country. You have before you, fellow citizens, the re- 
mains of some of those heroes, whose blood paid the price of 
our freedom and independence ; for they fell in battle, at that 
period, when this nation, through perils the most tremendous, 
was struggling into existence — at a time when an old and 
gigantic monarchy in the title spirit of despotic power, was 
putting forth all her energies, to hold us in a state of vassalage 
and destroy for ever the cause of liberty, at the moment of its 
dawn on the new World. 

But I do not now recount the deeds of valor, nor the counsel 
of wisdom, which were made the means of procuring for our 
country all the blessings, which she now enjoys in such pro- 
fusion. On this topic a thousand tongues were eloquent, on the 
late anniversary of our Independence. Nor do I now call your 
attention to the benign providential administration of "the 
Prince of the kings of the earth," whose arm wrought for us 
deliverance ; though an ample theme that well deserve to occupy 
more of the public attention, and to awaken more gratitude, in 
the celebration of our great national festival. 

There is one feature of tlie policy of our enemy, in manag- 
ing her most unjust and unnatural warfare against us, which 

- 78 



merits special notice, as immediately connected with the dis- 
astrous event over which we are called to mourn — I mean her 
more than inhuman emplo3'ment of the tomahawk and scalp- 
ing knife of the Savages to butcher our peaceful citizens — a 
policy which stains forever the pride of British glory. 

In ancient times when war was waged against any nation, 
hoary-aged women and children were equally the object of its 
destructive fury with the warrior in the field of battle. The 
cruel feature of war has been softened, or rather obliterated, 
by the progress of civilization ; and by common consent of civil- 
ized nations, the soldier in arms only is the object of attack, 
while the unarmed citizen of evei-y class remains unmolested — 
a law of nations which divests war of more than half its hoiTors. 
But this amelioration in the laws of war has not reached the 
savages of our wilderness who spare no age nor sex — all are 
the objects of their indiscriminate butchery. Their tomahawk 
sinks into the head of the sucking child, while reeking with 
blood of the mother. Such was the warfare to which the British 
cabinet allied itself, "shaking hands with the savage scalping 
knife and tomahawk." Notwithstanding the loud 'remonstrance 
of its most enlightened statesmen, the parliament of Great 
Britain employed the savage hords to murder in cold blood the 
unoffending women and children of our western frontiers. All 
that the most sanguinary tyrant could have desired, did the 
savage allies of our enemies perpetrate. The blood of murdered 
thousands yet cries for vengeance on the British throne. Who 
can imagine, much less recount, the terrors and sufferings of 
our western people, while the Indian tomahawk was raised over 
their heads or bathed in their blood.'' Yet, I see the pillars of 
smoke ascend from their burning cottages along the western 
border fi*om the plains of Kentucky to the mountains of the 
Minisink — the flames of their houses glaring on the darkness 
of midnight, and hear the screams of women and children 
awakened from their slumbers by the blaze of tlieir dwellings, 
and the warwhoop of the Savage. Yes, all this was more than 
realized. 

One chieftain was distinguished above all others, in this 
murderous carnage — I mean Col. Joseph Brant. His father 
was a German and his mother a Mohawk Indian. He, was at 
an early age placed in Dartmouth College, where he received 
many kind attentions, and possessing no ordinary powers, ac- 

79 



quired a good education ; and thus he was dandled on the knees, 
and sucked the breast, of that country, whose sons and daugh- 
ters he was by Britished cruelty, commissioned to massacre. 

Early in the Revolutionary War, he received from George 
III a Colonel's commission, appointing him to the command of 
the six, in the northern and western parts of New York. It 
was he who is styled by Campbell, in a note to his "Gertrude 
of Wyoming," "the monster Brant" and who was a leader in the 
dreadful massacre, which desolated the blooming fields of fair 
Wyoming in the Autumn of 1778. 

The ferocity of his savage nature was not tamed by educa- 
tion — in him the blood of the barbarian extinguished every 
spark of civilization that might have been kindled in his con- 
stitution. He was more cunning than the fox and fiercer than 
the tiger. With three hundred of his warriors he set'out from 
Niagara in June, 1779, to fall upon the western frontiers of 
this state. There was also under his command, painted like 
Indians, about two hundred Tories, who, through courtesy, 
we often hear called, "disaffected," "the friends of the British 
Government," etc. I prefer to call them by the good old Revo- 
lutionary name, "Tories." 

After the middle of July, they appeared on the west of Mini- 
sink, like a dark cloud hanging on the mountain top, ready to 
break on the plain below, in thunder and lightning, tempest 
and hail. On the morning of the twentieth, the inhabitants 
were awakened from their slumbers by the flames of their 
dwellings, and fled in consternation. 

Their farms were laid waste and their cattle and other 
property plundered by a detachment of his execrable band, 
whom Brant had sent out for the work of robbery and murder. 
On the evening of the same day. Col. Tusten of Goshen, re- 
ceived b}^ express, intelligence of the events of the morning, 
and issued orders to the officers of his regiment, to meet him 
on the morning of the twenty-first, with as many volunteers as 
they could raise, at Minisink, which he had fixed as the place 
of rendezvous. The officers, generally, with the small force 
which they could raise and equip on so short a notice, 
met the Colonel at the place appointed, where they held a 
council i>f war, and discussed the question whether they should 
pursue the Savages or not. Col. Tusten wisely opposed the 
pursuit, as Brant, a skillful warrior, was probably the com- 

80 



mander, as the enemy's force appeared to be much superior to 
them, and as they had with them many Tories who were well 
acquainted with the woods ; while they had only a small force, 
were ill supplied with ammunition, and at the same time ex- 
pected reinforcement. The majority, however, were in favor of 
pursuing the Indians, who they said would not fight, and from 
whom they should endeavoi to recover the plunder. In the 
midst of these deliberations, Maj. Meeker mounted his horse, 
flourished his sword, and said, "Let the brave men follow me; 
the cowards may stay behind." As may be readily thought, 
this decided the question ; they all took up the line of march 
and proceeded that evening seventeen miles and encamped for 
the night. On the next morning they were joined by a small 
reinforcement under Col. Hathorn of the Warwick regiment, 
who, being an older officer than Col. Tusten, took the com- 
mand. When they had advanced a few miles to Halfway 
Brook, they came upon the place where the Indians had en- 
camped the preceding night, and another council was held 
there. Cols. Hathorn, Tusten and others whose valor was 
governed by prudence, were opposed to advancing farther, as 
the number of Indian fires, and the extent of ground occupied 
by their encampment, removed all doubt as to the superiority 
of the force of the enemy. Here the same scene which broke up 
the former council was re-acted, and with tlie same effect. 

Capt. Tyler, who had some knowledge of the woods, was sent 
foinvard at the head of a small scouting party, to reconnoitre 
the movements of the enemy, and give notice of the best 
grounds for attacking him. But he had not advanced far be- 
fore he was killed, a circumstance which created considerable 
alarm. As our troops were marching north on the hills west 
of the Delaware, about nine in the morning, they discovered the 
Indians, advancing leisurely along the bank of the river, about 
three-quarters of a mile distant. 

Brant had sent forward the plunder under an escort to a 
fording place of the Delaware, near the mouth of the Lacka- 
wack, wlierc lie intended to cross tlie river. Col. Hathorn 
wished to intercept him before he reached that place. Owing 
to intervening woods and hills, the two aitnies soon lost sight 
of each other, and Brant, instead of advancing along the bank 
of the Delaware, wheeled to the right, and passing up a deep 
ravine, over which our troops had marched, and thus he, cros- 

81 



sing our line of march, showed himself on our rear, about 
ten o'clock. 

By this skillful manoeuver he not only took us by surprise 
but chose his own ground for commencing the attack. Col. 
Hathorn, as the men were ill supplied with ammunition, issued 
an order like that of Gen. Putnam at Bunker Hill, not to fire 
a single shot until the enemy was near enough to make it take 
effect. 

Just at that moment an Indian was seen riding a horse that 
had been stolen from Minisink on the twentieth, and was known 
to one of our men who immediately fired on him and killed 
him. The fire soon became general. At the commencement 
about fifty of Col. Hathoni's men were cut off from the main 
body and could not be brought into the engagement, leaving 
between eighty and ninety men only to contend with the whole 
force of the enemy, five times their number. 

Every thing that the most determined bravery could effect 
was effected. Soon after the commencement of the battle they 
were completely surrounded by the Savages on the summit of 
the hill, descending on all sides, and the ground which they 
occupied among the rocks and bushes was about an acre in 
extent, which they maintained in an obstinate conflict from be- 
tween ten and eleven in the morning, until late in the after- 
noon. The wounded were collected in a secure place under a 
rock, to the number of seventeen ; where Col. Tusten, who was 
a skilled surgeon, dressed their wounds. 

So deadly was our fire, that had it not began to slacken on 
account of the failure of ammunition, Brant afterward ad- 
mitted that he would have been compelled to retreat. Several 
attempts to break into our lines had failed, but just as the fire 
began to slacken, one man who had guarded the northwest 
angle of the hollow square and who had kept up from behind a 
rock, a destructive fire upon the enemy fell, and the Indian and 
Tory crew broke in upon our troops like a resistless deluge. 
The yell of the Savages, the screams of the wounded calling 
upon their companions not to forsake them, and the groans 
of the dying presented a scene of horror which beggars all 
description. Col. Tusten probably fell, determined not to 
abandon the wounded. All the rest fled in every direction, and 
more were killed in the flight than fell in the battle. Some 
swam across the Delaware, while others were drowned in at- 
tempting to cross. 

82 



Out of eighty, who were in the engagement, forty-four were 
killed, chiefly militia officers, the most respectable citizens who 
had offered themselves willingly before their men could be 
equipped. Some were wounded, who died by a lingering and 
protracted death, whose wounds were not in themselves mortal, 
but they were forced to suffer under them, inflamed by the 
heat of the weather and from want of dressing, while they were 
distressed with hunger and burning fever, no one to administer 
them a drop of water, or cheer the protracted agonies of death 
by a sympathizing word or look — Thus died a father, a husband 
or a brother far from his home in the cheerless solitude of the 
mountains. 

Sternitur infelix alleno xmluere coelumque 
Aspicit, et dulces moriens remimscitiir agros. 

(Hapless he falls by wounds which the cruel foe inflicted; 
looks to Heaven for aid, and dying remembers his sweet native 
place.) 

What horrors surround such a death ! How ungrateful that 
they should be thus suffered to perish for want of aid ! For 
forty-three years, too, their bones were suffered to whiten 
among the rocks of the mountain, after their flesh had been 
devoured by wild beasts, and of some, perhaps, before they were 
dead. It was not that widows, of whom there were thii*ty-three 
in the Presbyterian congregation, were regardless of the re- 
mains of their husbands, who were dear to them as their own 
lives ; for they engaged and paid a man to conduct them to 
the fatal woods of slaughter, where they intended to collect 
and bury them. 

They set out on horseback, but had not proceeded far before 
they were forced to return. How could females ride over the 
rugged and pathless mountains ? The man went on, promising 
to perform the duty which they had piously attempted, but 
he violated his promise and never returned to tell them that he 
had done so. But in the county it had long been known that 
the bones of these heroes were thus ungratefully neglected. 
Were their sufferings, their agonies, their deaths, for the pro- 
tection of their wives, their children, their country forgotten? 
This day we mourn their death and acknowledge our ingrati- 
tude. Oh! ye spirits of the brave who fell in defence of our 
liberty, our land, too long have we neglected vour re- 

83 



mains, too long have we been ungrateful, we acknowledge. But 
oh ! my voice cannot reach you ; you cannot hear me ; I ought 
not thus to address you. The living my voice can reach ; you 
will permit me to address the noble sentiments of your souls 
and invite you to emulate the example of these heroes in deeds 
of noble daring, should your country ever call. The young 
and those now around me under anns, may see our country in- 
volved in danger, that will require even the sacrifice of life for 
her safety. 

But you will suffer me to remind you, that in order to sacri- 
fice life rationally, though in our country's righteous cause, re- 
quires more than what is called patriotism and heroism. To 
meet death boldly, in any cause, while the soul is in its natural 
enmity against Heaven, is no better than the rashness of a 
mad man ; it is rushing upon misery unutterable and eternal, 
from some blind impulse or the light applause of an hour. 
It is only by faith in Jesus Christ who died for the salvation of 
sinners, that any human being can face death calmly, collect- 
edly and rationally. Who can tell what consolation religion 
may have ministered to those who expired in the long agonies 
of death, after the battle of Minisink, without any human aid? 
None other could have done. Great as their bodily pains must 
have been, future prospects may have imparted much allevia- 
tion. How intense would their anguish have been, had the 
prospects beyond the hour of death been onh^ dark and 
alarming. 

But, fellow citizens, though you should never be called to 
expose your lives in the field of battle, though you should con- 
tinue to the close of life amid scenes of peace, in the bosoms 
of your families and die having your cheeks bathed with the 
sympathetic tears of the most affectionate, the most tender- 
hearted relatives, and my hope and prayer is, that you enjoy 
all these, yet they are poor and frigid consolations for a dying 
man, if he has none other. Whether, then. Heaven has destined 
your country to peace or war in your days, it is wise to be pre- 
pared for death, applying in time to the atoning blood of the 
son of God for redemption, and the sanctification and consola- 
tion of the Eternal Spirit, to carry you in triumphs, may I 
say) more than real, through death — yes, through death, "for 
it is appointed unto all men once to die." In a few years these 
thousands who now stand around us, shall all sink into the 

84 



earth on wliich you stand; the clods of the valley shall cover 
you and not on^ be left alive. Whilst this day it is your de- 
corum, that you remember with sympathetic emotions oi sor- 
row the fall of the excellent citizens whose bones you now 
inter — remember yourselves. 1.14. 

You know that when you die your souls survive, and that 
your bodies, too, shall live again. These dry bones can live, 
they will live again, they await, and your remains soon to fol- 
low to the tomb, shall await there the call of that Creator who 
formed the soul and the body to appear before the judgment 

seat of Christ. , 1 i <? „a 

While we look back to their death, let us also look forward 
to our own and to their resurrection on that day "for which 
all other days were made." It is hastening; we must witness 
its awful solemnities, not like those of this day. It will not be 
ushered in by the sound of such artillery as you have to-day 
heard; but tbe trump of God, the Archangel, reachmg to the 
depths of the ocean and the solemn silence of the grave, whose 
tenants shall all start into life, raised by the omnipotent en- 
ergies that shall descend in the voice of the trumpet. Then 
shall 

"Eruptions, earthquakes, comets, lightnings play 
Their various engines ; all at once disgorge 
Their blazing magazines." 
You shall not then, as to-day, be called to attend the inter- 
ment of a few bones, but to wait on the funeral of the materia 
universe-the interment of the world we inhabit-the interment 
of her attendant moon-the interment of yonder sun now shin- 
in. gloriously in mid-heaven and the interment of every star 
that bums by night in the blue vault of heaven. Secured m 
the favor of the Almighty Creator, by the Redeemer of man, 
may we all be prepared for waiting upon the funeral obsequies 
of iarth and the heavens in peace and safety. 
Survivors of the Battlk 
Some of whom attended the obsequies at Goshen in 1822: 
CoL. John Hathorn of Warwick, N. Y. 
Maj. John Popping, Somerville, N. J. 
Maj. Meeker, N. J. 
Evi Dewitt, N. J. 
Moses Dewitt, N. J. 

85 



Ajt. Robert Armstrong, Florida, N. Y. 

Maj. John Wood, Goshen, N. Y. 

Stephen Smith, Goshen, N, Y. 

Chas. Weeks, Goshen, N. Y. 

Sergt. Caleb Goldsmith, Goshen, N. Y. 

Capt. Abraham Cuddeback, Minisink, N. Y. 

Daniel Myers, Minisink, N. Y. 

John Wallace, Minisink, N. Y. 

John Howell (old sailor), Minisink, N. Y. 

Jonathan Bailey, Wawayanda, N Y. 

Absohm Conklin, Lackawaxen, Pa. 

Moses Killan, Panpack, Pa. 

Samuel Helm, Manakating, N. Y. 

Benjamin Whitaker, Deposit, N. Y. 

John Whitaker, Deposit, N. Y. 

THE OLD MONUMENT REPLACED BY A NEW AND MORE 
COSTLY ONE. 

Dr. Merrit H. Cash, who was a descendant of one of 
the survivors of the Wyoming massacre, bequeathed the 
sum of $4,000 toward the erection of a more suitable 
and impressive monument to take the place of the one 
first erected over the bones of the Goshen Militia, and 
in 1862 the present Minisink monument at Goshen was 
erected and dedicated. 

The old monument was presented to John Edward 
Howell of Goshen and was donated by him to the Sul- 
livan County Committee of the celebration in 1879, to' 
be erected on the battleground in that comity. 

*An effort has recently been made to conform to JNIr. 
Howell's wishes by resetting the old monument at the 
Hospital Rock on the actual battlefield where Dr. Tus- 
ten and his wounded were massacred. 



* The old monument stood at the rear of the church and when the pres- 
ent monument was erected the site was changed to the position which it 
now occupies near the Court House. The change was made in 1862, after 
the bones had been buried forty years; but the two walnut coffins which 
contained the remains of the honored dead were foimd to be in an ex- 
cellent state of preservation and were carefully and reverently interred 
under the present imposing monument, which is given on the cover of this 
book. Goshen also contains a monument to Henry G. Wisner, one of the 
signers of the Declaration of Independence. 

86 



CHAPTER VI 

GOSHEN CELEBRATION OF 1862. 

EXTRACTS FROM SPEECHES, ETC. 

A part of the programme was as follows : 

Prayer by Rev. George Potts, New York City. Reception 
of Orange and Sullivan County Committees with address of 
David F. Gedney. Oration by Jno. C. Dimmick, Esq. Mis- 
cellaneous addreses by society, Sons of Orange and Sullivan. 

On account of the condition of the country then engaged in 
the bloody Civil War, it was impossible to restrain the speak- 
ers to scenes of Minisink during the Revolution. 

Rev. Dr. Potts prayed, "0 Divine Ruler, protect the brave 
men who are defending the cause of the Union upon the battle- 
field, and strike from the temple of liberty the sacrilegious hand 
of the traitor!" 

Mr. David F. Gedney said, "No human being can lift the 
veil which now envelops our native land. I trust she will 
emerge from her darkness radiant with starry brightness." 

Mr. A. S. Van Duzer said, "We have come here to meet the 
loved of other days, to rekindle within our hearts the fires of 
patriotism and to offer prayer for the brave departed. Alas! 
what a chalice of woe and desolation has been presented to the 
lips of the American people. I hear the voices of those whose 
bones lie under that icy marble, calling to us to march forward 
with cold steel and belching cannon until this accursed rebel- 
lion is subdued. My thoughts inevitably run forward into 
coming years. It is now our blessed privilege to teach the 
rebellion a never-ending lesson. Future generations will erect 
monuments to the memory of the noble anny of martyrs who 
have fallen in its path." 



87 



THE BATTLEFIELD. 

BY J. W. JOHNSTON, ESQ., CHAIRMAN. 

The Minisink Battle occupies its proper page in American 
history, and the 22d day of July, 1779, is acknowledged as the 
day on which that sanguinary battle was fought. 

The field of the battle is also well understood by the public 
in general, while a few have recently sought to raise a question 
as to its locality. 

It is desirable that such a question be carefully considered 
and rightfully settled, and that all reasonable doubt in regard 
to a matter of such importance be dispelled. 

It is a lamentable fact that the history of the battle is defi- 
cient in many essential particulars, and that by an unpardon- 
able negligence much information lias been irretrievably lost, 
and which if once collected and preserved by those who pos- 
sessed the opportunity, would now be hailed as a valuable pos- 
session. 

A number of the men actually engaged in the conflict lived 
and circulated among their former neighbors for years after- 
ward, and the means of information thereby presented, to- 
gether with others of equal certainty, but serve to prove the 
indifference of mankind in regard to matters of such livel}^ 
interest to those living in after years. 

But whatever doubt may surround many incidents connected 
with it, the fact is established that the one place entitled to 
the distinction of being the field of the Minisink Battle is situ- 
ate in what is now the town of Highland, County of Sullivan, 
and State of New York, and in lots number sixteen and seven- 
teen in the seventh division of the Minisink Patent. By an air 
line the distance of the field from the village of Barryville in 
said town of Highland is 288 chains, or three and three-fifths 
miles, and about four and one-half miles by the usual route of 
travel. From Lackawaxen it is distant about one and one- 
fourth miles by road, and is elevated above the level of the Dela- 
ware River at that place not less than 1,000 feet. 

The field itself is a plateau formed by a ledge of rock, most 
of which is covered by earth to a depth sufficient to support the 
growth of shrubbery. The edges of the ledge present a pro- 
jection towards the southeast, southwest and northwest, and 
when viewed together form, most nearly, a semi-circle. Toward 

88 



the southeast the face of the ledge is somewhat broken, 15 to 
18 feet high and may be ascended or descended without much 
difficulty. Towards the southwest it is in part composed of 
broken rock, while another part exhibits a steep hill some 25 
feet in height. 

The imperfect breastwork of the whites so hastily erected 
may still be traced, and which as late as 1839 was so distinct 
as to leave no doubt of its direction and extent, or the ground 
occupied by those it was intended to shield. 

That we"^ have not mistaken the battlefield, let the following 
evidence be respectfully submitted: 

When the bones of the slain were collected and removed to 
Goshen for burial, they were found upon this plateau and at 
the base of the ledge of which it is composed. 

Is there proof of the assertion? If I may refer to my own 
personal acquirements, I answer that my inforaiation enables 
me to answer affirmatively; and that others may judge of its 
sufficiency, I give the evidence by which I have been convinced. 

John Carpenter formerly owned and resided upon what is 
known as the Beaver Brook farm situate in the town of High- 
land, and where the waters of the Beaver Brook and Dry Brook 
unite with the Delaware River ; the farm on which he was born 
and grew to manhood, and whereon, as we are informed by a 
member of the family, his father settled in 1782, three years 
after the battle. 

Mr. Carpenter was a man of an active, intelligent mind, of 
inquiring habits, retentive memory, easy and accurate in his 
communications, and probably reached the period of his ma- 
jority near the beginning of this nineteenth century. 

In the autumn of 1839, I called upon him at his place of 
residence and asked him to show me the ground on which the 
Minisink Battle was fought. He kindly consented and led the 
way up and along the valley of the Dry Brook where neither 
road nor pathway had yet been opened for about the distance 
of one and one-fourth miles, until we entered upon the plateau 
I have described. This he designated to me as the battlefield 
and conversed upon many incidents connected with it. 

Here, sixty years after the battle, was to be seen the frail 
breastwork which the few brave men in the hour of peril and 
in the anxiety of their hearts had erected in the presence of the 

89 



savage foe, with each and every stone, apparently, in the posi- 
tion their hardy hands had placed them. 

Joseph Carpenter, a brother of the gentleman before 
named, once owned and resided upon a farm situate along the 
same Beaver Brook, two miles up the stream, and where the old 
Cochecton road crosses the same. He was a very few years 
younger than his brother; settled here about the same time, and 
the foregoing statement respecting the habits and abilities of 
the one is equally true of the other. 

In the year 1843 I first heard that this Mr. Joseph Carpen- 
ter had assisted in collecting the bones of the heroes from the 
battleground, and at an early day thereafter I journeyed to the 
place of Mr. Carpenter and learned from him that such was the 
fact. I informed him that I felt a degree of solicitude in regard 
to the battlefield and the events associated with it, was anxious 
to acquire whatever reliable information subsisted, and that I 
would cheerfully pay him for his time and labor if he would ac- 
company me to the battlefield, and give me such information as 
he possessed relative to the collection of the bones and to all 
other matters pertaining to the ground, the battle, &c., &c. He 
appointed the following Saturday for the journey, and sug- 
gested that I be at his place at an early hour of that day. I 
carefully attended to the appointment and arrived at his house 
at 9 o'clock a. m. 

His good lady (Aunt Dorcas), than whom a kinder did not 
live, provided for us an ample lunch and we commenced our 
appointed journey. On leaving the premises of Mr. C. we 
passed some distance up and along the old Cochecton road, and 
then through a pathless wild until we amved upon this same 
plateau, where we remained, exploring the ground and sur- 
roundings, searching for relics and rehearsing traditions of the 
battle, until the sun was nearing the brow of the western hill. 

Here was what the second Mr. Carpenter recognized as the 
ground on which ill-requited bravery grappled with savage fury, 
only to die, and to remember in dying for their country and 
home. Here, too, was the spot from which he with his own 
reverent hands helped to gather the whitened remains of the 
men who died that liberty and right might survive, and that 
they might be united in a common sepulchre as in life they»had 
been united in a common pui-pose. 

Here at the base of the ledge forming the northwest extrem- 

,90 



ity of the plateau, Mr. Carpenter could designate the spot 
where the largest number of bones were found, and hence the 
inference that the brave and faithful Tusten with his disabled 
followers, there became the objects of a cruelty which must con- 
tinue to blacken the page of history on which it is recorded. 

Here again, at different points along the margin of the little 
pond lying at the foot of the hill, bounding the plateau on the 
southwest, he could point out where the partial skeletons of sev- 
eral bodies were found, as though, amid the fast fading scenes 
of life, the mangled bodies had sought that murky spot in hope 
to allay a dying thirst. 

In estimating the value of such evidence, the favorable ages, 
the abilities, the residences and the general opportunities of the 
gentlemen above named to acquire the information they have 
imparted, all tend to inspire a confidence in their statements. 
One resided one and one-quarter, the other two and one-half 
miles from the scene of the struggle, and as before stated com- 
menced their residences here at an early day. Their arrival 
at manhood was not remote from the date of the conflict and 
they possessed and unquestionably improved the opportunity 
of talking with many other men who lived at the time of the 
battle, quite probably with some engaged in it. 

If additional evidence be deemed useful, I may further state 
that but a very few days ago I met my now aged and much re- 
spected school-teacher of early days, Daniel J. Watkins, from 
whom I learned that when an active youth of 14 years he ac- 
companied and assisted the party which done itself immortal 
honor by removing the remnants of the departed heroes from 
the wild mountain where they had so long lain with blasting 
reproach to their kindred and countrymen. From his vivid 
memory Mr. Watkins points to the same ground designated by 
the Carpenters, and in his description of the ground and re- 
hearsal of the incidents connected with the collection and re- 
moval of the remains, not a single discrepancy appears be- 
tween the two accounts of Joseph Carpenter and himself. 

BY J. W. JOHNSTON, CHAIRMAN. 
Extract From Address of Welcome. 

We shall not ask in vain to-day that you join us in the hope 
that such assemblages shall convene under the aegis of the Con- 

91 



stitution which now spreads its grateful shadows over us, ander 
a like form of government, with institutions ennobled and im- 
proved by the constantly increasing intelligence and virtue of 
the times. 

And now, as the gentle western breezes unfurls yonder chaste, 
proud ensign of Republican Sovereignty, we confide in you to 
hope with us that it will ever float over a land and a people 
that are free, and that all the myriads which shall yet arise 
from the bosom of coming centuries will own a noble and virtu- 
ous pride in the protection it secures. 

THE MONUMENT. 

The monument is composed of stones gathered from the 
battlefield, excepting the two flagstones which cap the differ- 
ent sections, and the boulder which forms the crown. All these 
were obtained from Capt. L. F. Johnston at the mouth of 
Beaver Brook, and by his procurement drawn first to Lacka- 
waxen and thence up the acclivity to the battlefield. The flag- 
stones are each five inches thick, the one five and one-half and 
the other four feet square. The boulder is of white sandstone 
and weighs about 1,500 pounds. 

In the center of the lower section of the monument, and 
directly beneath the large flagstone, was placed a black wal- 
nut box which was brought from the Southern States by Abel 
S. Myers, Esq., upon his return from the late war, and whose 
grandfather was a brother of the Daniel Myers who acted such a 
prominent part in the Minisink battle. 

In the box is a paper containing the names of the Committee 
of Arrangements and others interested and assisting in the erec- 
tion of the monument. % 

PRAYER BY REV. J. B. WILLIAMS OF WHITE LAKE, 
SULLIVAN COUNTY, N. Y. 

O Lord of hosts ! we desire to worship Thee on this mountain. 
Thou art a great King and all people should be silent before 
Thee. It befits us to adore Thee this day of commemoration 
of departed heroes, while we lift up our hearts to the God of 
our fathers in the midst of these woods and rocks, and templed 
hills, which are themselves the proof of the presence, and power, 
and majesty of our God. 

92 



We thank Thy great name, our Father in heaven, that we 
have come to this Centennial day, made memorable by the great 
sufferings our forefathers endured to found for us this free 
Republic. 

We thank Thee that we are not bowing down under the rod 
of the oppressor, and that this nation is still the asylum for 
the oppressed of all lands. May grateful emotions spring up 
in our hearts in connection with these public observances, that 
instead of the alarm of war we have the kindly salutations of 
peace; that instead of the groans of the dying, on this once 
gory field of battle, we have the strains of music and the pleas- 
ure of social conversation, in a land where concord and pros- 
perity prevail throughout all our borders. 

Most merciful Father! Thou dost remind us of the horrors 
of war, the sufferings of patriots, the tears of the widows and 
orphans, and the desolation of homes to which loved ones never 
returned, while their bones for long years lay unburied on these 
lonely heights ; 3^et we bow before Thine august throne with 
humble submission to all Thy royal arrangements, and magnify 
that infinite wisdom which over-ruled the disasters of war for the 
glory of thy great name and the welfare of the whole nation, 
to the end that posterity might learn to value their blood- 
bought privileges. Great God! we thank Thee that Thou didst 
hear their prayers, Thou didst see their tears, and Thou didst 
regard their sufferings. Great in Thine infinite goodness that 
if ever the dearest interests of civil and religious liberty may be 
imperiled that the sons of our country may be always ready and 
willing to make the needful sacrifice of life, it may be, in imita- 
tion of those illustrious ancestors who died for their home, their 
country and their religion. 

We confess that we are less than the least of Thy mercies, 
yet what astonishing goodness passes before our eyes, as we 
review the mercies of the last hundred years towards our nation. 
We have gone through great adversities and lamentable wars, 
and remain still a happy, united and prosperous people. Out of 
many nations Thou hast founded one great nationality where 
Christian institutions flourish. 

May the Sabbath long be observed among us, and Sabbath 
instruction be given to the youth of the land with increasing 
success, and may education and virtue improve their minds. 
May profanity and immorality cease ; may temperance prevail 

93 



and righteousness become the stability of the times. Send, we 
pray Tliee, national prosperity. 

Bless, O Lord ! all ranks and classes of society. Bless the 
President of the United States and give him wisdom to guide 
the c.ifficult affairs of State. Bless the members of Congress ; 
many they be good men and rule in the fear of God. 

Bless aged fathers, mothers and the children present. May 
the next generation see better days than ever their fathers saw, 
the nation increasing in virtue, morality and religion until it 
shall become the glory of all lands. 

Be pleased, our Father in heaven, to guide the tongues of the 
speakers that they may utter words advisedly, that our hearts 
may be strengthened for every good purpose, and may gratitude 
fill every soul. 

We remember '"this day that our lives are short and uncer- 
tain — "our fathers, where are they.'"' When we, too, shall pass 
away and sleep with all the mighty dead may our latter end 
-be peace and our final gathering be with the blood-bought 
throng in heaven above. And to Thy blessed name, through 
Christ Jesus/l^e all the praise, world without end. Amen. 

ORATION BY HON. WM. J. GROO OF MIDDLETOWN, 
ORANGE COUNTY, N. Y. 

Fellow Citizens : One hundred years ago to-day, on the spot 
where we are assembled, now in the town of Highland, Sullivan 
County, N. Y., forty-five brave men gave up their lives at the 
call of duty, and for the protection of their homes. If it be 
true as some believe, that the spirits of the departed are con- 
scious of the conduct of the living, we may well suppose that all 
who were present on that ever memorable day are now wit- 
nessing with the deepest interest, our proceedings. May this 
thought inspire us to the utterance of such words as shall fitly 
commemorate their deeds. 

We are not here simply to express our admiration of the 
men who were killed in the battle of Minisink, but of all who 
fought in that engagement. Death has now overtaken them all, 
and we must remember and recognize the fact, that he who 
survives the performance of a great duty ought to be awarded 
equal praise with him who loses his life before the contest is 
ended. 

94 



As we recur to the battle of Minisink, three names at once 
occur to our minds as the most prominent actors in that sanguin- 
ary contest, viz. : Cols. Tusten, Hathoni and Brant. 

The record of this day's proceedings would not be complete 
without making a passing notice of these commanders. 

Col. Benjamin Tusten was bom on Long Island in 1743, and 
consequently was thirty-six years old at the time of the battle. 
His father moved into Orange County when the son was but 
three years old, and settled about three miles from the village 
of Goshen. Young Tusten, after a thorough academic educa- 
tion, studied medicine and became a prominent and successful 
physician and surgeon. He continued the practice of his pro- 
fession, having the confidence and esteem of the entire com- 
munity in which he lived, until the time of his death. Like most 
really great men, he was modest and unassuming in his manners. 
He early took ground in favor of the independence of the 
Colonies, but he was not permitted to live to witness the con- 
summation of his hopes. 

Colonel, afterwards. General John Hathoni, was a true pa- 
triot and a man of sterling integrity. He was, at the time of 
the battle, about the same age of Tusten and Brant, and 
although the result of the engagement was disastrous to his 
command, no one ever questioned his bravery. 

The fact that his little band of untrained soldiers were able, 
for so many hours, to resist the attack of an enemy that greatly 
outnumbered them, is evidence that he was a man of superior 
military genius. The high estimate placed upon his character 
and ability by the citizens of that day, is shown by the fact that 
he was repeatedly chosen to represent them in the halls of State 
and National legislation. On the 22d day of July, ^1822, forty- 
three years after the battle — the occasion being the laying of 
the foundation of a monument at Goshen, Orange Co., N. Y., to 
commemorate the sacrifices of the men whose bones had then 
for the fii-st time been gathered from the field of battle. — Gen. 
Hathom spoke as follows : 

"At the end of three and forty years we have assembled to 
perform the sad rites of sepulture to the bones of our country- 
men and kindred. But these alone are not sufficient. Policy 
has united with the gi*atitude of nations in erecting some memo- 
rial of the virtues of those who died defending their country. — 
Monuments to the brave are mementoes to their descendants ; 

95 



the honors they record arc stars to the patriot in the path of 
glory. Beneath the mausoleum whose foundation we now lay, 
repose all that was earthly of patriots and heroes. This honor 
has been long their due, but circumstances which it is unneces- 
sary for me to recount have prevented an earlier display of this 
gratitude. Having commanded on that melancholy occasion, 
which bereft the nation of so many of its briglitest ornaments — 
having been the companion of their sufferings in a pathless 
desert, and a witness of their valor against a savage foe of 
superior numbers, I approach the duty assigned me with mingled 
feelings of sadness and pleasure. JNIay this monument endure 
with the liberties of our country : when they perish, this land 
will no longer be worthy to hold within its bosom the consecrated 
bones of its heroes." 

These noble words, and falling from the lips of the venerable 
commander, then about eighty years old, and on such an occa- 
sion, must have been greatly impressive. 

Joseph Brant, tlie Moliawk Chief, was born in Ohio in about 
1742, and died November 24", 1807. He was frequently spoken 
of as a Shawnee by birth and only a Mohawk by adoption, and 
it has also been said tliat he was a son of Sir William Johnson. 

Having taken a part in the campaign of Lake George in 1775, 
and in various subsequent conflicts, lie officiated after Sir Wm. 
Johnson's death as secretary of Col. Guy Johnson, Superintend- 
ent-General of the Indians, and when the American Revolution 
began, he was instrumental in exciting the Indians against the 
Colonies. His presence at the battle of Wyoming is doubtful, 
though he took part in that of Cherry \ alle}^ and other san- 
guinary engagements. He was received- with great distinction 
on his tour to England in 1776 and was attached to the military 
service of Sir Guy Carlton in Canada. He opposed the confed- 
eration of tjie Indians which led to the expedition of Gen. 
Wayne, and did all he could to prevent peace between the Indians 
and the United States. He was, hovewer, zealously devoted to 
the welfare of his own people, and conspicuous for his efforts 
to prevent the introduction of ardent spirits among them. He 
was a brave wari'ior and noted for his ability, as testified by 
his correspondence. 

During his stay in England he collected funds for a church, 
which was the first one built in Upper Canada. He there also 
published the "Book of Common Prayer" and the "Gospel of 

96 



Mark" in ^Moluiwk and English. He spent the hitter part of his 
life at Burlington Bay, near the head of Lake Ontario, where he 
built a house for himself on a tract of land conferred upon him 
bv the Britisli Government. 

Brant's personal appearance and manners, added to his ac- 
knowledged abilities, gave him great power over his followers. 
His bearing was haughty and his language often insulting. He 
was tall and rather spare ; generally wore moccasins elegantly 
trimmed with beads ; leggings and breach-cloth of superfine 
blue ; a short, green coat with two silver epaulets, and a small 
round laced hat. His blanket of blue cloth was gorgeously 
adorned with a border of red. 

Now let us turn our thoughts to the events that preceded the 
battle, and then to the contemplation of the battle itself. 

As early as 1757, Lieut. -Gov. DeLancy reported to the Gen- 
eral Assembly that the Lidians had made incursions into the 
Counties of Orange and LTlster — Sullivan then being a part of 
the latter, and murdered some of the inhabitants. 

He also reported that in response to repeated applications 
he had ordered a line of block-houses built, more effectually to 
secure that part of the County and to encourage the inhabitants 
to stay and not abandon their settlement. He, in the same 
report expresses fear that after the troops shall have been with- 
drawn, that part of the County will be destroyed hy the French 
and their Savages. 

It appears that the settlei's consented to and did remain, 
many of them, only to fall victims to the barbarous cruelty of 
Savages, Tories and Indians — in the employ of that government 
which but a few years before had, through its official agents, 
expressed such interested solicitude for their welfare, and such 
painful apprehensions that they might be Injured by "the 
French and their Savages." 

As we recount these unmitigated outrages of the British 
Government, if our blood be not stirred, and we do not feel in- 
dignant beyond expression, then are we unworthy descendants 
of the men who fought, that this country might be free from the 
tyranny of such a government. 

In October, 1778, Brant, with a considerable force, crossed 
over from the Delaware to the Neversink, and down the latter 
into the Mamakating Valley. The most of the settlers being 
notified of his approach, succeeded in escaping from their 

97 



homes ; some taking shelter in the block-houses, or "forts," as 
they were called. A number, however, were killed, houses and 
barns were burned, horses and cattle driven away. No effort was 
made at this time to pursue the invaders, but to guard against 
the repetition of this outrage Count Pulaski was stationed there 
with a battalion of cavalry. 

In February, 1779, he was ordered with his troops to South 
Carolina. It is probable that Brant was soon informed that 
the frontier was again unprotected, and organized a second raid 
into that region. 

He reached the vicinity of what is now called Cuddeback- 
ville, near the line of Orange County, on the night of the 19th of 
July, 1779. 

This time his approach was more rapid and stealthy and 
the knowledge of his presence in the neighborhood, before day- 
break the next morning, caused the greatest consternation. 

Some succeeded in reaching the block-houses, pthers took 
refuge in the woods, while many were cruelly murdered. After 
burning and plundering at will. Brant marched hastily back, 
laden with spoils, to Grassy Brook, a small stream which emp- 
ties into the Mongaup a few miles from the Delaware, where he 
rejoined a portion of his command which had been left there. 

It will be seen by this fact that he had a much larger force 
than he deemed necessary for the destruction and plunder of the 
settlement, but he anticipated pursuit and thus guarded against 
capture and defeat. 

The news of this terrible disaster having reached Col. Tus- 
ten on the 20th, he at once issued orders to the several officers 
of his regiment to meet him the next morning with as many vol- 
unteers as they could muster, at the "lower neighborhood." 
About one hundred and fifty ofl^cers and men appeared at the 
time and place named, and early, probably before daybreak, 
pushed forward under Col. Tusten toward the Neversink. 

At the place now called Finchville on the east side of 
Shawangunk mountain, they had breakfast and were supplied 
with some provisions for the campaign. 

After the long and weary march of that day, following the 
trail of the retreating foe, they encamped for the night at Skin- 
ner's mill, about three miles from the mouth of Halfway Brook. 

On the morning of the 22d they were joined by Col. Hath- 

98 



om of the Wanvick regiment, with a few men, and he being the 
senior officer took command. 

Advancing to Halfway Brook, now Barryville, they came 
upon the Indian encampment of the previous night, and it was 
evident that Brant was near. In order to ascertain his exact 
position and his contemplated place of crossing the Delaware, 
Captains Tyler and Cuddeback were sent forward. 

Tyler was soon shot, and after a short delay caused by his 
death, Col. Hathom advanced, and as soon as he saw the main 
body of the enemy leisurely approaching the ford, near the 
mouth of the Lackawaxen (some had crossed and others were 
crossing with the plunder), he left the Indian trail and turned 
to the right, intending by a rapid march over these hills to in- 
tercept Brant at the ford. 

The wily Indian had discovered his pui*suers and anticipat- 
ing their object, marched his forces quickly up this ravine to our 
left, thereby placing himself in the rear of Col. Hathom and 
preventing about fifty of his men, who had fallen behind in the 
march, from joining him. 

And now we have the contending forces in close proximity 
to each other. 

The Americans, numbering about ninety, occupied the small 
plateau on which we are assembled. The ledge of rocks which 
you see a little to our right, and extending around to the monu- 
ment yonder, formed the southerly boundary of the battlefield. 
The Indians and Tories came up from the i-avine to the left, 
or northerly from this stand, and extended their line around to 
the west. 

O ! What an hour of supreme peril was that for the little 
Spartan band thus environed by the very jaws of death. 

What a scene for us to contemplate, looking back through 
the vista of an hundred years ! Who shall tell us of that day 
and hour, so fraught with deepest interest to those men and the 
dear ones they had left at home? 

Their voices are hushed in death, and their spirits have re- 
turned to the God who gave them. The sun above us is silent — 
these rocks and hills will not their lasting silence break — the 
whisperings of the wind through the branches of the trees about 
us we do not understand, and the mirrored waters of yonder 
Delaware have not retained the shadows and impressions of 
that day. 

99 



If these mute witnesses coukl but speak, how gladly would 
we be silent and listen to their eloquence ; grander far than ever 
fell from human lips. 

But we must content ourselves with such information as 
came from tlie survivors of that fearful contest, and which now 
occupy a prominent page in the histories of Orange and Sullivan 
Counties ; to which histories w^e are largely indebted for the 
statement of facts contained in this address concerning the bat- 
tle of Minisink and the events immediately preceding it.* 

Brant, realizing the odium that must ever rest upon his 
name by reason of his inhuman and barbarous treatment of the 
wounded and helpless who fell into his hands after the battle, 
attempted to palliate these wrongs by a statement made, many 
years after, to the effect that before the battle began, he ap- 
peared in full view of the Americans, and told them that his 
force was superior to them, and that if they would surrender he 
would protect them. That he could then control his warriors, 
but after blood-shed he could not answer for the result. 

Assuming this statement to be strictly true, we do not won- 
der that Col. Hathorn declined to intrust his conmiand to the 
tender care of the friends on wjiose hands the blood of loving 
mothers and innocent children had scarcely dried. It was the in- 
vitation of "the spider to the fly," and I do not hesitate here to 
express the opinion that if it had been accepted, not one of that 
band of patriots would ever have escaped to tell a tale of horrors 
more heart-rending than the history of that day now records. — 
Brant could then have given his own version of the affair with- 
out fear of contradiction. 

The history of the Indian character is written in the mid- 
night glare of burning houses, with the tomahawk and scalping- 
knife, dipped in the blood of women and children. 

The battle really began about eleven o'clock, by the Indians 
advancing from the North, but they were promptly repulsed and 
held in check while some of the men hastily threw up a sort of 
breast-work of sticks and up-turned stones, about one hundred 
and fifty feet from the southerly extremity of the plateau. The 
location of this defensive line was, but a few years ago, dis- 
tinctly marked. 



*History of Orange County by Samuel W. Eager. History of Sullivan 
County by James E. Quinlan. 

100 



At this juncture Brant's voice was distinctly heard within 
the American hnes, calHng upon those of his forces who had 
crossed the Delaware to return ; and soon, thereafter, Hathom's 
men, who had been formed into a sort of hollow square, were 
nearly surrounded. Indians appeared in all directions, but in 
"greatest numbers towards the north and west, and concealing 
themselves behind rocks and trees, advanced from time to time, 
as opportunity offered, and thus a running fire was kept up. 
At every weak point Brant directed his efforts, but without 
avail. Col. Hathorn, while guarding every point in the line, as 
far as possible, gave strict orders to his men to reserve their fire 
until it could be made effective. Thus the ammunition, which 
was lamentably short, was carefully husbanded. As the day 
wore on, Brant became disheartened, and was about to aban- 
don the conflict and withdraw from the field, when the death of 
one of the most effective militiamen, who had for hours success- 
full}^ guarded a point towards the north-westerly point of the 
line, and near where Col. Tusten was with the wounded, gave 
the Indians and Tories an opportunity to break through. Amid 
deafening yells, they came pouring through this opening in such 
numbers that further resistance was impossible, and the brave 
men who for six long hours, without water, under a burning 
July sun, with insufficient ammunition, had successfully defied 
an enemy many times outnumbering them, fled from the field 
soaked with the blood of their comrades. Col. Tusten being, as 
we have seen, a physician and surgeon, was at this time, as he 
probably had been during the greater part of the engagement, 
attending to the necessities of the wounded behind a cliff of 
rocks. He and the seventeen disabled men under his care, were 
at once set upon and killed. Others who were wounded, and 
some who were not, were pursued and dispatched. Some died 
of their wounds, so that we may safely conclude that not more 
than thirty of the ninety who were in the engagement, survived. 

What became of the fifty men who Avcre isolated from the 
main force, history does not record. If they were, as it would 
seem they must have been, within supporting distance, and made 
no effort to aid their imperiled and suffering brothers, let us 
hope that the earth opened and swallowed them up. 

The loss of the enemy has never been ascertained, but was 
undoubtedly much greater than ours. 

Tliere were others, many miles from the field of battle, who 

101 



must not be forgotten on this occasion. I i-efer to the families 
of these men. 

What has been said of the events of that terrible day is a 
matter of public history ; 3^et who but God keeps the record of 
broken hearts, and numbers the falling tears .^ 

If to-day we could read that record, our deepest sympathies 
would be stirred by the untold anguish of the wives and children 
that day made widows and fatherless. 

ADDRESS BY HON. ARTHUR C. BUTTS OF MONTICELLO, N. Y. 

Fellow Citizens : To-day in the fairest village of our sister 
County of Orange, a mighty throng have assembled around a 
marble shaft, upon which they read a legend, carved in the en- 
during stone, that on the 22d July, 1779, the Patriots whose 
names are there inscribed, fell in a bloody struggle on the distant 
heights of Minisink, after deeds of mighty valor, and that under- 
neath repose the gathered and precious ashes of the heroic dead. 
It is well that the last resting-place of those brave men should 
be among their own kindred, and amid their childhood scenes. 

We are standing to-day upon the very spot where those 
patriots fell. The soil beneath our feet was crimsoned with their 
blood. These hills, one hundred years ago to-day, looked down 
and saw the grandest spectacle this earth affords — the death of 
the patriot who dies for his country. Here they struggled, 
fought and died ; Americans, patriots, heroes ever}^ one. Shall 
we, shall we, on this memorable day, with mournful visage 
linger near their funeral urn, and drape it with the chaplets of 
the dead.^ Ah, no! No tears, no cypress for the patriot dead; 
for they die not, but live forever. To all men in every age, their 
lives are an example, their deaths an inspiration. Let us banish 
every note of woe. Let these hills which heard their death 
groans, resound with the loud huzzas and acclamations of us 
their countrymen, proud that it is given to us, after a hundred 
years have rolled away, to commemorate their valor on the field 
where it was so gloriously displayed. 

We envy not the citizens of Orange that if true manhood, 
lofty courage and ardent patriotism were here made conspicuous 
on that eventful day, that the fame and glory belongs to their 
honored sires. As sons of Sullivan we are content that our soil 
was consecrated by their blood. 

102 



To-day our maids and matrons bring fragrant flowers that 
bloom among our hemlock hills, and strew them over every spot 
where those brave heroes fell. They drop their tears for those 
who died to shield the wives, the daughters and the mothers of 
'that stormy time from 'the torments of a merciless Indian foe; 
and as their tears fall upon the flowers, behold, they breathe 
forth a sweeter perfume and blush with a brighter hue and then 
from these, with tender hands, they wreath a hero's garland, 
and lay with reverence on yon monumental pile. 

What mortal tongue or pen can fitly chronicle the heroism 
and fortitude of those gallant men, who fought and died upon 
this gory field one hundred years ago to-day ? 

We see them at their fire-sides, in those troubled revolution- 
ary times, when the startling news is brought to them that 
B;ant— the cruel, plundering, murderous Brant— the dusky 
demon who gloated over his murdered victims amid the smoking 
ruins of Cherry Valley and Wyoming— that Brant and his 
treacherous, uncivilized braves were hovering near the peaceful 
homes which then smiled in this wilderness, leaving blackened 
ashes and human blood to mark his scourging path. The tocsin 
of alarm is sounded : "To arms !" "To arms !" they cry ; and to 
the sound of fife and drum, mid the tears of the loved ones they 
left behind, and followed by their prayers, they marched away 
to meet and stem the irresistible current, which was demolishing 
the hearth-stones, and sweeping away the lives of their country- 
men in its bloody tide. They marched through the pathless 
wilderness, and 'neath a burning July sun, one hundred years 
ago to-day they met the foe. They fought; they were outnum- 
bered • alas ! they were conquered ; but not until half their httle 
band lay dead upon this historic field; not until they had ac- 
complished a feat of arms which will blaze forever upon the pages 
of our history: not until they had illustrated how American 
patriots could fight and die, when opposed to a hireling savage 
horde, let loose upon them by the power which sought— thank 
God! in vain— to crush the independent spirit of American 

freemen. r. ^ ^^ ^ 

Shades of the dead, who died in honor here ! Soldiers, heroes, 
patriots of Minisink! Your gallant deeds, your unselfish 
sacrifices, your intrepid valor, your immortal deaths are not for- 
gotten and unprized in this generation by your countrymen.— 
Assembled here, we honor and revere your memories, and conse- 

103 



crate this battle ground, through all time, to your honor and 
your fame. We mark this spot with a cenotaph, rugged and 
unpretending, for such in life ye were, quarried by reverent 
hands from out of these hills, immortalized by your deeds for- 
evcrmore. The first beams of the morning sun will gild it with 
splendor and a halo will be shed around it b^^ his evening rays. 
There let it remain untouched forever, save by the gentle sum- 
mer breeze and the wild winter storm. 



Mrs. Jonathan Corey, aged eighty-three years, was now sit- 
ting upon the stand in a chair once owned by Col. Tusten, of 
whom Mrs. Corey is a relative. 

Judge Butts then in polite and appropriate language, pre- 
sented the aged lady with a beautiful basket of flowers, taste- 
fully and artistically prepared by Mrs. J. W. Johnson, bearing 
in the center the figures "1779" formed with scarlet flowers. 

The Judge also, and in a touching manner, referred to "the 
old arm chair" of Mrs. Corey and the memories with which it 
stood connected. 

Mrs. Corey, stepping beside the Chairman on the platfonn, 
and in full view of the audience, requested from him a public 
announcement of her gratitude and her acknowledgments for the 
kindness shown her. 

The Chairman then on behalf of the aged lady and in compli- 
ance with her request, spoke as follows : 

Ladies and Gentlemek : On behalf of our aged friend Mrs. 
Corey, I present to you her acknowledgments for the attentions 
thus extended to her, and likewise for the presentation of this 
beautiful floral gift, bestowed in a manner so appropriate and 
polite. 

I now hold to your view this relic of ancient days, in the 
shape of a chair, once owned and used in the family of Col. Tus- 
ten, second in command at this battle, and who with seventeen 
of his faithful followers met death by the tomahawk in Indian 
hands, beneath yonder ledge whose gray and frowning side 
stands the enduring witness of the barbaric scenes perpetrated at 
its base. It bears the unerring marks of the relic it is repre- 
sented to be, and I hold it to your view with all the reverence 
and admiration its history demands. 

Here too stands the aged possessor of it now, directly san- 

104 



guincd to that Colonel whose memory wc revere, and whose name 
and deeds we securely treasure in our American hearts. 

Although siiackled by the burdens which eighty-three years 
of time have thrust upon her frame, yet animated by that un- 
dying flame of patriotism burning within her bosom, she has 
borne the toil amid the scorching summer sun, to come here to- 
day, that she with all the others of us might once more tread 
upon this classic gi'ound, consecrated by the blood of her 
heroic relative, and to form yet one living connecting link be- 
tween the present and the liistoric past. 

Fitting to this occasion indeed that she should occupy this 
chair, upon this platform erected here after the lapse of one hun- 
dred years, upon the very scene of the struggle in which her own 
relative was an actor so prominent, and whereon he so bravely 
3'ielded his life — 

"The fittest place for him to die 
Because he died for man." 

A striking incident, fruitful of pride and enthusiams with Ameri- 
cans all, in common with the lady herself. With us, my friends, 
because we can embellish with Tusten's name, the history of the 
country we love. With her, because such illustrious blood 
courses her veins, and because amid the fast-fading scenes of her 
life, she can rejoice in her title of American citizen, valuable 
onlv from the results of that most grand of National struggles, 
which the life and the death of her own kindred contributed to 
produce. 

She too like others of us will soon pass away, and may she 
be happy in her meeting with the noble spirit Avhich fled from 
this romantic ground a century ago, and hand in hand with him 
as they shall jouniey along the course of the stars in spiritual 
beatitude, recount and only recount their sufferings, their sor- 
rows and their perils past. 

ADDRESS BY THE HON. GEORGE H. ROWLAND OF 
ROWLAND'S, PENNSYLVANIA. 

Mr. President, Ladies and Gextlemex : 'Tis well that 
you have assembled here upon this hallowed ground to com- 
memorate the brave deeds of your partiotic ancestors. 'Tis well, 
fellow citizens, that the descendants of revolutionary ancestors 

105 



should ever and anon keep alive the sacred fires of freedom by 
assembling on the day and in the place where those brave Spar- 
tans offered up their lives in defence of their liberties and homes. 

'Tis well to stand upon the ground that drank the blood, 
even unto death, of full one-half of all the brave command who 
met the Indian horde, led on by the wily Brant on this very 
plateau, just one hundred years ago to-day. Led on by Brant, 
I say ; yes, he led on by twenty-seven Tories ( as history and 
tradition tell us) who were worse than the barbarous savages 
themselves ; and they again hissed on by British promise of 
gold, power, and possession of their neighbors' houses and prop- 
erty, as the price of their treason, against the sacred right of 
liberty, both political and religious. 

'Tis well for those who have drawn the sword in their coun- 
try's cause to now and again take down the old trusty friend, 
burnish it, and teach the rising generation that liberty was not 
bought without a price ; and if, as in this case, the actual par- 
ticipants have all passed away, 'tis well for their children and 
grand and great grand-children to do likewise ; and gatherings 
like this are like unto a brightening up of the old blade. 

History has failed to do justice to the men who so gallantly 
offered up their lives on the battle field of Minisink ; although a 
very full account of their sanguinary conflict may be found in 
the archives at Alban}', as reported to the Governor by Col. 
Hathorn immediately after. From this and tradition it would 
seem that Brant conceived the idea of exterminating the people 
of Minisink, which included that section of country where Port 
Jervis now stands, some twenty-five miles down the Delaware 
River. Gathering his braves to the number of about one hun- 
dred and forty, and some twenty-seven white Tories, he stealthily 
made his way into the quiet little hamlet of Minisink, on the 
20th, at night, or early in the morning of the 21st, murdering 
every man, woman and child in their way, and burning two saw- 
mills, one grist mill and the only church in the settlement, 
which stood on what is now Main Street in the village of Port 
Jervis. From my best information there were only two build- 
ings left standing in all that thrifty settlement; one a stone 
house on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware and a similar 
structure yet standing in what is now called Germantown. 
They were both built and used as forts, as well as dwellings, 
were barricaded and defended by the people who fled to them for 

106 



protection against the savage horde. On hearing of the 
slaughter of their neighbors, the brave men of Goshen and 
vicinity assembled, enrolled themselves under the command of 
Col. Tusten, and they were again joined by another company 
under Col. Hathoni, and all marched to Minisink, where they 
were joined by the few men left in the place, a few also from 
New Jersey and Penns3dvania, and immediately started in pur- 
suit of the savage foe. The Indians and whites encamped seme 
three miles apart on the night of the 21st, about three miles 
east of this place. Next morning early found our men again 
in pursuit of the enemy, who was leisurely making his way up 
the river, and pretending to cross it yonder at my right, about 
one mile distant at the confluence of the Delaware and Lacka- 
waxen Rivers. According to some accounts, the Indians were 
surprised by our men, while other and more probable accounts 
represent Brant as aware of the pursuit, and only pretending 
to cross the river with his plunder, while he had marched the 
main body of his men around yonder hill, thus coming in the rear 
of our men and cutting off their retreat ; at the same time forc- 
ing them to take their position on this plateau, as you see it, 
with that perpendicular ledge of some twenty feet in height in 
their rear and saving them from any danger of an attack from 
that direction. 

That this is the exact spot on which the battle was fought 
there is no doubt, from the fact that there are men upon the 
ground to-day who were here when the bones of the slain were 
gathered and taken to Goshen and interred with imposing cere- 
monies. Again there are those still living who have visited the 
ground with men who participated in the battle. 

Having lived all my life in this vicinity, I have sought after 
particulars with some pains. 

Some thirty-seven years ago I closed the eyes of Absolom 
Conklin in death at the age of eighty. He was over fifteen years 
old at the time of the battle, and he with his father and mother 
lived just on yonder point at the mouth of the Lackawaxen, 
where his father had built the first log house in this section and 
cleared a few acres of land. The old man lived with my father 
at the time of his death, and never tired telling me how they 
were compelled to leave their rude home and descend the Dela- 
ware River in a canoe on account of the Indians becoming 
threatening, only a short time before the battle. How they 

107 



stopped on the Pennsylvania side of the river, opposite Mini- 
sink; how his father joined the raihtia in pursuit of Brant; how 
they fought until late in the afternoon of a very hot day with- 
out water; when their ammunition became exhausted they were 
compelled to retreat — his father running to the Delaware at 
Otter Eddy, swimming the same and making his way back to his 
family. How they soon moved back ; how he had gone to the 
battle ground with his father and saw the bones of those who 
died. 

Again Brant, who at and after that time held a commis- 
sion in the British army, on a certain occasion in New York 
City after peace was declared, gave his version of the battle, 
in brief, like this : 

He said the whites took a position on an elevated plateau 
with a small round hill on their left (the one you see on my left, 
no doubt) ; that before bringing on a general engagement he 
sent out a white flag, which was met by one from our side ; that 
he rode around yonder hill to the flags and told our men they 
had better sun-ender and he would treat them as prisoners of 
war; that his force was far superior to ours, and if a general 
battle was brought on he would not be able to restrain his savage 
warriors ; that while thus in parley a bullet came whistling by 
his side and cut his sword belt ; that he then threw himself from 
his horse, retreated to his men and drew them up for battle. 
Be that as it may, there is no doubt our men occupied this 
half acre of ground, with rude breast-works of stone, logs and 
brush hastily thrown up, running in a semi-circle from the point 
of yonder rock around by this stand to the top of yonder ledge. 

Col. Hathorn in his report to the Governor speaks of Col. 
Tusten (a practicing physician) establishing a hospital under a 
high rock in the rear of our line ; that he had a number of 
patients and was also wounded himself. 

It is probable when our men broke, the brave Colonel was 
tomahawked together with his patients, as seventeen skeletons 
were found bleaching beneath that rock at my right when the 
bones of the slain were removed to their final resting place at 
Goshen, Orange County, New York. 

This celebration, friends, is truly a success. Such a vast con- 
course of people was never assembled at Lackawaxen before. To 
the committee which has had this work in charge, too much 
praise cannot be given. I am told a commitee of five or six 

108 



p,.on,i,,c.„t HK-n of Ban-yvillc -"'"""'^y '^''!%'';M';';:' ^ 
work in charge, building and gradnlg roads to the ^P °f ^^'^ 
high, wild, rocky n.ountain, at least a thousand feet above th 
rload, canal and river; transporting timber therefrom to bud 
In these platforms, stands and seats, bringmg cement and ev n 
titer up this rugged acclivity for the erection of yonder beaut,- 
M unique and Appropriate .nonument, the conception and exe- 
cution of which was not only artistic but imposmg and grand. 
An herculean task that would have discouraged men less ene- 
cretic and patriotic than themselves. 

^ But the« it stands, its broad base planted on th,s vas 
granite rock, the well-carved lettering upon >ts -^es wdl teU 
L passer-by one hundred years hence how men here two hun 
dred Mrs before, had offered up their lives on the altar of then, 
countrv; and how there were men one hundred years afte,_ w,tl 
enough ;f gratitude to mark the spot by yonder pyramid. It 
now points to that Heaven wherein we trust these brave de- 
parted spirits have all assembled. Yes, gentlemen and lad.es, 
on hund'r d years hence yon monumental pile will stand m all >ts 
beluty, unJs destroyed by earthquakes or sacnlegmus arm 
yTi Irust some good guardian angel will palsy the Vandahc 
hand, should one be raised for its destroct.on 

Let us hope that this our country ; the last refuge of liberty, 
may he« forever endure; for alas! should the lamp here go out 
it may never be relighted. 

"Westward the course of empire takes its way— 

The first four acts already past ; 
A fifth shall close the drama with the^day, 
Time's noblest offspring is the last." 
We have a right to hope for the durabihty of our country 
anrwhile the lales lend their presence at such gathenngs and 
in such numbers, we, assuredly, will not hope m vam. 

ADDRESS BY HON. THOMAS J. LYON OF PORT JERVIS. N. Y. 
FK..OW CmzEKs: As I have been unexpectedly called 
upon to say something on this memorable occasion, -^h^^^ a 
_t's preparation, and as I came here to hear and no to 
Teak my remarks, of necessity, will be disconnected and few^ 
As I L-e been listening with delight to the speakers who have 



preceded me, my mind has been irresistably carried back to the 
early days of our country — a hundred years back, when upon 
this spot where now we stand, the best blood of our Revolution- 
ary Fathers was spilled for us and for the liberties we now enjoy. 
It was a day in the history of our revolutionary struggle which 
will never be forgotten. It was a period when subjugation 
stared our little army in the face^ — -when a successful foe lined 
the banks of your beautiful Delaware, at the base of this moun- 
tain, where we now stand, when the enemies of freedom were 
exulting in the anticipated overthrow of our destitute and 
almost exhausted army. But the patriotism of a Washington 
again cheered their drooping spirits, animated anew their en- 
feebled bodies, and kindled in their bosoms an inextinguishable 
flame of liberty and love of independence, that nothing could 
subdue. 

There is no need, after what you have already heard, for me 
to allude in detail to the brave deeds of those whose memories 
we to-day meet to honor and embalm. Their heroic deeds, their 
dauntless courage, their zealous patriotism will never be for- 
gotten so long as American hearts live and America is a 
nation. 

The names of Tusten and Hathoni, with their equally heroic 
comrades of the rank and file, are the inheritance of us all, and 
we honor ourselves in thus paying our patriotic tribute to their 
memory. "After life's fitful fever they sleep well" ; and here 
where this lofty peak kisses the clouds, here where the bones 
lay for years, here where the sunbeams first glow in the morning, 
it is fitting that a monument to their memory should be erected ; 
it is to meet that we should celebrate their fame. 

But in the few moments allotted to me, I cannot forbear 
saying a few words on a subject beautifully alluded to by your 
distinguished orator, in relation to the vigilance and fostering 
care necessary to retain our civil and religious liberty. If you 
would secure these blessings as an inheritance to your children 
a hundred years hence, you cannot too strongly guard against 
corruption in all its fomtis. My own observation, and a warning 
voice coming from the sepulchre of many nations, leads me to 
apprehend that unless we are zealous in this direction, we may 
yet fall from our high estate. Look at the facts as they now 
exist around you, and tell me if there is not danger. Consider 

110 



the nature and tendency of the means so often employed to de- 
feat the popular will in the choice of our rules. 

While men of all parties have united in the cry of bribery 
and corruption, all have been, to a greater or less extent guilty. 

I speak of all parties, and I affinn that notwithstanding the 
care and vigilance of the real friends of truth and virtue, the 
right of suifrage has been shamefully abused, the ballot-box has 
been prostituted, the Constitution and the laws have been 
violated, the principles of morality and the character of the 
Nation have been dishonored. Such are the effects of that reck- 
less spirit which, if not restrained and kept within proper 
bounds, may yet shake the temple of liberty from the foundation 
to the top stone, and extinguish its sacred flames on American 
altars. 

I apprehend that in these latter days too many of us go for 
our party, too few for our counti-y. There was a time when our 
fathers were noted for an inflexible determination to sustain the 
Constitution and the laws of the land, but I strongly suspect 
that another and diff^erent standard exists in many places and 
especially in our most populous cities. The individual who will 
give the most money to secure the success of his party, will 
occupy the highest place in the estimation of many of the 
voters of his own political creed. Indeed, the man who can 
obtain the largest number of votes by political intrigue or de- 
ception, is thought by many to possess an enviable distinction. 
Such a prominence is one that noble minds should scorn. 

The man who employs such means to eff'ect the triumph of 
his party, strikes a daring blow at the institutions of his Coun- 
try. He is a shameless assassin of virtue and liberty. He would 
pull down the great pillars of the Constitution, and cast to the 
winds the scattered pages of his Country's laws. 

But I must close. I need not, I cannot speak particularly 
of the duties which, as individuals, you owe to your Country, 
but I pray you, see to it, that they are discharged with incor- 
ruptible integrity. A great responsibility rests upon us. Our 
influence will be felt by those who shall come after us. The 
manner in which we live and act, and improve the privileges we 
possess, will tend to shape the character and destiny of the 
rising generation, and if we discharge our whole duty, we shall 
be a hundred years hence what we now are, a free and inde- 
pendent people. 

Ill 



Away then with that time-serving poHcy which would live 
but for the passing hour. We should act with reference to the 
best interests of humanity, irrespective of personal ease or grati- 
fication. It is for us to live for truth and virtue, for liberty 
and our Country. Thus live and thus act, and America shall 
be in the future, as in the past, great, prosperous and free. 



112 



CHAPTER VII 

INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 

SUPPOSED SPEECH OF RED JACKET IN HIS OWN DEFENCE- 
HE IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH BY THE COUNCIL. 

"Red Jacket is about to depart to the Spirit Land. 
He has offended the powers of the Council and they 
have decided he must die. But never let it be said Red 
Jacket feared death, for he is a brave man. 

"His heart is strong. He has no tears to shed. He 
has done harm to none. He stands under the great 
black clouds of anger. They are shutting out the light 
of truth. 

"That he has been a friend of his nation, he calls upon 
the sun, the moon and the stars to witness. 

"His nation has joined the customs of the palefaces — 
the furtraders — against his advice. But the tongue of 
Red Jacket is not silent. He will speak in his defence. 

"The Great Spirit gave these happy hunting-grounds 
to our fathers, who lie buried beneath the shade of these 
sturdy oaks. Many great suns have looked down upon 
them. The snows of many winters have covered them. 
The Great Father filled the waters with fish, and the 
forest with game for your meat. Pie made the cool 
springs in the valleyS for your drink. He called the 
song-birds together to make music in the treetops for 
your pleasure. 

"You w^ere happy until the white man was seen to 
alight, like a great white-winged bird in front of your 
wigwam. He then gave you firewater and made you 

113 



drunken, that he might take away your land, that he 
alight possess your furs. 

"The palefaces bought land to a certain mountain 
and claimed miles beyond when they came to possess it. 

"Our fathers smoked the pipe of peace in this forest. 
I call on them as my witnesses. 

"Because I have given my voice against the palefaces 
and their firewater you have bound me with thongs and 
the war-club is about to descend on my head. But while 
the great 'father of waters' continues to flow, you and 
your children will mourn over the innocent blood of Red 
Jacket. You and they will meditate on the truth of his 
Council. 

"He sought to remove from your midst your greatest 
enemy, that your warriors might be strong in battle, 
that your chiefs might be wise in council, and that your 
young men might be swift in the chase. 

"He has done his duty. He has given warning 
against the destruction of his people by firewater, and 
they have refused to listen to his voice. 

"Red Jacket will look on the sun for the last time. 
He is now ready to depart. His father will meet him 
and commend him. His tongue will be forever silent. 
There will be no tears shed over his grave. 

"But the dripping dews from the weeping-willow shall 
perpetuate his memory, and the song-bird of the forest 
sing praises of his worth." 

(It is needless to say Red Jacket was acquitted.) 

EXTRACTS FROM TECUMSEH'S SPEECH. 

This great Chief happened to be stamping his feet in 
anger at the time a great earthquake occurred. Ever 
afterward when an earthquake shook the Indian wig- 
wams they said, "Tecumseh is stamping his foot," and 

114 



at night when they saw a meteor shoot across the sky 
they said, "It is the soul of Tecumseh, which cannot 
rest until the palefaces are driven from his hunting- 
grounds." He was heard to chide his people with the 
command: "Lay aside the soft blankets of wool and 
don the skins of the forest. The Great Father is angry 
when he hears the noise of your muskets. Put away the 
thunder of the white man and take up again the bow 
and the hatchet!" 

TRIBUTE TO GEN. JACKSON. 

During the Creek war on one of the battlefields, an 
Indian baby was found clinging to its dead mother. The 
squaws in the camp said, "Kill the papoose, for all its kin 
are dead." But the General took the babe to his own 
tent and mixed some sugar and water and kept it alive 
until it could be sent to "the hermitage." It there found 
a home and was loved like a son until he died at the age 
of seventeen years. 

LORD DUNMORE'S VICTORY. 

While Lord Dunmore was Governor of Virginia, that 
Province extended to the Ohio River. During the early 
part of the Revolutionary troubles, a Cayuga Chief 
named Logan and his tribe remained neutral, but in 
May, 1774, a party of land-jobbers were robbed of some 
horses near the Ohio River, and it was laid to the In- 
dians. The Captain, Michael Cresap, sought revenge by 
murdering many Indians who evidently had nothing to 
do with the theft. They in turn began retaliation by 
attacking the pioneers on the frontier, burning their 
buildings and murdering many white people. Lord 
Dunmore sent Gen. Lewis with 3,000 Provincial troops 
who attacked the red warriors at the confluence of the 

115 



Kanhawa and Ohio Rivers, and the Indians were 
severely defeated in what is known as the "battle of 
Kanhawa," after which they were forced to sign a treat}'' 
of peace. 

Logan refused to attend the conference, but addressed 
a speech by the mouth of Col. Gibson to Lord Dunmore. 

LOGAN'S DEFENCE. 

"I appeal to any white man to say if he ever entered 
Logan's cabin hungry and he gave him not meat; if he 
ever came cold and naked and he clothed him not. Dur- 
ing the last and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his 
cabin, an advocate of peace. Such was my love for the 
whites that my countrymen pointed to my wigwam as 
they passed and said, 'Logan is the friend of the white 
man.' 

"I had ever thought to have lived with you but for 
the injury of one man — Capt. Cresap. The last spring, 
in cold blood and unprovoked, he murdered all the re- 
lations of Logan ; not even sparing his woman and chil- 
dren. There runs not a drop of his blood in any living 
creature. 

"This called on me for revenge. I have sought it. I 
have killed many. I have fully glutted my vengeance. 

"For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace, but 
do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. 
Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to 
save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not 
one. 

"Logan will no longer oppose making peace with the 
white man. You are sensible. He never knew what fear 
is — that he never turned his back in the day of battle. 

"No one has more love for the white man than I have. 
The war we have had with them has been long and 
bloody on both sides. Rivers of blood have run on both 

116 



sides, and yet no good has come to any. I once more 
repeat it, 'Let us have peace with those men.' 

"I will forget our injury; the interests of my country 
demand it. I will forget, but difficult, indeed, is the 
task. I will forget that Capt. Cresap, cruelly and in- 
humanly, murdered, in their canoes, my wife, my chil- 
dren, my father, my mother and all my kindred. 

"This roused me to deeds of vengeance. I was cruel 
in spite of myself. I will die content if my country is 
once more at peace. 

"But alas! when Logan shall be no more, who will 
drop a tear to the memory of Logan?" 

PURCHASING THE MINISINK BATTLEFIELD. 

The Minisink Valley Historical Society of Port Jer- 
vis has purchased six acres wliich comprise the JNIini- 
sink battlefield of the Revolutionary War, for the pur- 
pose of preserving it in its natural state to their pos- 
terity. This society deserves great praise for what they 
have already accomplished in rescuing from oblivion so 
much of the interesting and instructive history of the 
Colonial period of our State. 

The collection of relics and mementoes in the form of 
public records, books, etc., which they are preserving in 
a fireproof vault, built in connection with the Free Li- 
brary building of Port Jervis, can scarcely be surpassed 
by the historical societies of any State. 

They erected a monument in 1896 at Cuddebackville 
Cemetery to Benjamin Eaton, who was one of Wash- 
ington's bodyguard and a resident of the Minisink Val- 
ley. 



117 



200TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE SETTLEMENT OF MINISINK. 

{From the Port Jervis Evening Gazette, July 23, 1890.) 

The second annual mid-summer meeting of the Mini- 
sink Valley Historical Society at Caudebec Park, Tues- 
day, was even more of a success than that which we were 
privileged to chronicle last year. 

To commence with, the weather was most propitious 
and the descendants of the Huguenots and the Hol- 
landers beheld the lands of their forefathers under the 
most favorable circumstances. 

The first train, of seven cars, left the Main street 
depot precisely on time and rolled up the valley of the 
Neversink without accident or incident of an unhappy 
nature. In that train were many whose ancestors had 
been residents of this valley for generations in years 
gone by; had traversed this now happy and peaceful 
valley terror-stricken at the dreaded alarm of "The In- 
dians are coming!" Hatless and coatless, in their 
brawny arms clasping their long flintlocks, peering into 
wood and thicket for stealthy ambuscades, dreading yet 
expecting the war-whoop and the gleam of the glistening 
tomahawk in the hands of a stealthily red-skinned brave, 
they fled with their weeping families swiftly yet noise- 
lessly through fields blue with flax or waving with 
broom corn, to the forts scattered among the long sepa- 
rated settlements. Such were the scenes of long ago. 
Now the scythe sweeps over the graves of the sleeping 
red men, thicket and wood have given place to wide and 
fertile fields, and the war-whoop rings no more in the ear 
of brave men or weeping women. 

Extended as may be the train of thought induced by 
the ride to Caudebec Park, the ride itself is a short one, 
and the whistle of the engine soon wakes the slumbering 
echoes in the hills about Cuddebackville. 

The cars are quickly unloaded and the silent monu- 

118 



merits in the cemetery on the hill where "The rude fore- 
fathers of the hamlet sleep" look down on another but 
peaceful invasion of this historic ground. Those who 
compose this party are habituated to the sober mien 
which comes with years and there is little straggling till 
the Park is reached. 

Dinner was the next and most natural step in the 
proceedings of the day, and while baskets were unloaded 
and tables selected, those who were unemployed lounged 
lazily under the tall trees or strolled in social conversa- 
tion to and fro. 

The grave and reverend seigniors grouped themselves 
on the platform and attended to the brief but interest- 
ing business meeting. 

Dinner was on the respective tables at the time ap- 
pointed and from the looks of the laden baskets one 
would have appreciated for a time the privileges of a 
busy bee. 

Up at the hotel. Landlord Levi Cuddeback and a 
corps of assistants in cool-looking white and light-col- 
ored costumes, ministered to the wants of successive 
tables full of hungry guests, with every good thing 
which the season produced. 

Trains from Summitville and Port Jervis brought in 
additional hundreds, and carriages and wagons of all 
sizes added their mickle to the muokle, till at the begin- 
ning of the literary exercises the seats on the platform 
were all well filled and groups of congenial spirits had 
appropriated all the shaded spots within the sound of 
the speakers' voices. 

ADDRESS BY C. E. CUDDEBACK. 

In 1861 an estimate was made by Peter E. Gumaer, Esq., 
author of the "History of Deerpark," of the increase of the 
population from the original settlers of that town. He states 

119 



that his enumeration was carefully made from his own knowl- 
edge down to the third generation to which generation he be- 
longed, and upon a slightly diminished rate of increase for the 
succeeding generations. As a result of his investigation, he con- 
cluded that the number of families of such descendants then on 
the stage of action, was not less than 3,200. 

A new generation has come upon the scene since that calcula- 
tion was made, and upon the same ratio of increase which he 
adopted, the number of families must now be not less than 
10,000, and the actual living descendants of the first settlers of 
the town of Deci-park, not less than .50,000 ; a number nearly 
sufficient to form the population of a new State. Those now 
in this valley, and the contiguous neighborhoods, are but a 
handful compared with the multitude scattered through all the 
States and Territories. 

An illustration is found in the family whose name I bear, and 
whose numbers remaining in the valley are perhaps greater than 
of any other family of the original stock. Jacob Cuddeback, 
the patentee, had five sons and eleven grandsons, yet all of 
the name now residing in this town or anywhere in this vicinity, 
have descended from but two of his grandsons, Abraham and 
Benjamin, and many even of their descendants have found homes 
in distant places. 

The emigration from this vicinity commenced about one hun- 
dred years ago, soon after the close of the Revolutionary war. 

It was at first directed principally to the fertile military 
lands of central New York, and the settlers by emigration, 
sought to do as their fathers had done, endeavor to improve the 
condition of themselves and their families by locating in less 
crowded districts. 

It was at that time, a long six weeks' journey through the 
wilderness, performed slowly over hard roads and through 
gloomy forests with ox-teams and prairie schooners. The whole 
district in the vicinity of Owasco and Skaneatales Lakes, was 
thus colonized by emigrants from this section. The settlers 
carried with them the habits and faith of their fathers, and in 
due time a church of their denomination was erected among 
them. 

Notwithstanding this exodus, by reason of which many who 
might claim kinship with us, and a right to participate in this 
celebration are absent, the Minisink Valley was not depopulated 

120 



of its ancient stock. It is no collection of strangers to the 
blood of the Huguenot and the Hollander, who have assembled 
to do honor to this occasion. The bottom lands of the Never- 
sink and of the Delaware, are still for the most part in the 
possession of the descendants of those who were attracted to 
them when still they were covered with the coarse grass of the 
prairie, and we, their descendants, cherish a pardonable pride 
in recalling the heroism, the endurance, the lofty devotion to 
principle and the patient perseverance of those into the fruit 
of whose labors we have entered. For nearly a hundred years, 
theirs was a frontier settlement. Exposed to the attacks of 
savage Indians, at times friendly, and then without cause, 
hostile, not only against them, but against hostle claimants 
under New Jersey titles, were they obliged to defend their 
possessions. No right except the ability to defend was 
recognized by their assailants, and for a long time the contest 
was one of physical supremacy. 

Far away from markets, they traveled over rough roads, 
usually on foot, sometimes on horseback, and in lumber wagons 
or sleds. Their fanning implements were of the rudest and 
simplest construction ; manufactured as was their clothing, 
principally from the productions of their own fields and by the 
labor of their own hands. Their toil was of the severest and 
longest, and abounded in hardships from which we shrink even 
in the recital. 

Gumaer's little volume, in its account of the daily life of these 
settlers, of their privations, of their perseverance, of their in- 
dustry and of their habits, tells a tale which should fill us with 
admiration ; and not in the least for their devotion to the moral 
and spiritual welfare of themselves and their children. In their 
poverty and in their labors, they did not forget their fathers' 
God, and the duties which they owed to him. Theirs was a re- 
ligious community. In the earliest times, and before the organi- 
zation of their church, and afterwards in the intervals when 
they were without the services of a minister, reading services 
were maintained, and among the items of expenditures for the 
church on one occasion we find l£ 12s for two volumns of 
Davies Sermons. This and the selection of a young man from 
their number, and educating him at the common expense, that 
he might subsequently become their minister; his return and 
service among them for fifteen years, tells a tale of simplicity 

i2i 



and sincerity and honesty, which is refreshing in these later 
times. 

As might have been expected, the war of the Revolution 
found the inhabitants of the valley, almost to a man on the side 
of popular rights and against the oppressions of the mother 
country. The most of the present town of Deer Park was then 
included in the precinct of Manakating. John Young, Presi- 
dent of the Committee of that town, reported that the Revo- 
lutionary Pledge sent out by the Provincial Convention, to all 
the precincts and counties of the State, for signatures, had been 
unanimously signed by all the freeholders and inhabitants of the 
precinct. All of its leading men, were members of the Com- 
mittee of Safety ; of their bravest and best young men, some 
went out to the conflict with the British invaders and the 
Indians, never to return. Three of the residents of the town, 
Jacob R. Dewitt, Abraham Cuddeback and Abraham Westfall, 
carried Captains' commissions in the defence of their country. 

In the peaceful years which have elapsed, since that great 
struggle, not much opportunity has been given for the display 
of those great qualities of leadership which great crises call 
out. The descendants of the early settlers have perhaps, with 
diminished zeal, followed in the path of their ancestors. We 
may safely say that no more peaceful, honest, and industrious 
or honorable farming community exists than that which has 
continued to occupy the Minisink Valley. We do not claim that 
among them are to be found any great soldiers or statesmen 
who have excited the world's admiration, but what we do say is 
this : — and upon such persons depends, after all, the happiness 
of communities and of commonwealths, that they have supplied 
a succession of men who, in private station, in furtherance of 
public interests, as officers of the church, in the discharge of 
their duties in the various offices of town and county adminis- 
tration, and occasionally in Legislative Halls, have worthily 
filled the duties of their day and generation. Their name and 
memories we revere and honor. 

SPEECH BY REV. DR. TALMAGE. 

Mr. President, Members and Friends of the Minisink 
Valley Historical Society : 

It affords me peculiar satisfaction to meet you to-day, on 

122 



gi'ound so historic, and on an occasion of such thrilling in- 
terest — to participate with you in the festive celebration of the 
200th Anniversary of the settlement of this valley. 

Your hearts must throb with joy and thankfulness. The day 
is well chosen, it being also the 111th Anniversary of an event 
to be commemorated by the people of this region of country 
forever. 

The 4th of July belongs to the whole Nation. On that day 
the men of the Revolution put down in black and white and 
published to the world the principles upon which this free 
government was established. Every boy in the land from Maine 
to California is entitled to bum his fingers and scorch his eye- 
brows for his country's glory. 

But the 22nd of July, may be said especially, to belong to 
the people of Sullivan and Orange and Sussex and the sections 
contiguous. You have wisely arranged to use this day to show 
to the rising generation what stamp of men they were who 
settled in this valley — their hardy frames, their patient en- 
durance of privations, their stalwart virtues, their heroic suf- 
ferings, that their posterity might enjoy what under a gracious 
Providence has been secured to them. 

The battle of Minisink was waged against vast odds — under 
great disadvantage of position — under the scorching rays of a 
whole day's mid-summer sun, without food or water. To be 
sure it was disastrous, in one sense, to the patriots who fought 
it, yet it inscribed their names on a scroll of honor, which will 
cause them to be held in everlasting remembrance. 

This society has a grand mission and is nobly fulfilling it. 
You are reviving names which ought never be permitted to die. 
You are searching out the manly characteristics of the fathers, 
which may well be imitated by your children. You are putting 
on record thrilling events, and marking the places where they 
occurred so plainly that they can never be lost. You are tracing 
out by means of ancient documents and reliable traditions, the 
progress of the people in domestic comforts and pubhc morals 
and religious privileges and agricultural improvements, as well 
as in matters mechanical, educational and professional. 

You have undertaken to put all this in permanent form for 
the benefit of those who come after you. 

I have come from my distant home purposely to congratu- 
late you Mr. President, and your co-laborers, on the fidelity 

123 



and enthusiasm in which you are doing your work and the 
magnificent success wliich has attended your efforts in the short 
period of your existence as a Society. Similar organizations 
in different parts of the country have heard of your success 
and are rejoicing in your prosperity. 

Your undertaking was not begun a moment too soon. Much 
that would have been of intense interest to posterity has 
already been irrevocably lost. But so much of the past, can 
yet be reached and preserved, which a few more years of neglect 
would consign to oblivion, that you have every inducement to 
push on your inquiries. 

Your motto is a grand one, and could not be more expressive 
of your work "Et patribus, et posteritate" ; concerning both 
the fathers and the children. 

The value of the past to the present and the future, begins 
to be appreciated. Its influence upon character, upon insti- 
tutions, upon inventions, upon discoveries — nay, upon every- 
thing that pertains to human progress. We are stimulated by 
that which is good, and warned against that which is bad. 

We are now amazed at the general indifference which 
formerly prevailed with regard to the generations which have 
gone before us. Some of us seemed content to remain wholly 
ignorant of our progenitors. There are scores of men now 
who know nothing even of their grand-parents — where they 
lived, what they did, or where they were buried. They are 
fortunate to be able even to tell you their names. 

Many of the old grave-yards have gone into forgetfulness 
and decay. Moss and brambles, and upheaving frosts have been 
permitted to destroy precious memories. Names and dates, 
which would have been valuable to the present age, have been 
undecipherable. 

Important documents, full of history have been counted as 
rubbish — stuffed into old barrels and conveyed to the garret. 
Ultimately they fell into the hands of tlie boys, with which 
to make a bon-fire to celebrate a Democratic or Republican 
victory; or else they were given to the rag-man in exchange 
for a tin whistle or a Christmas horn or other jim-cracks — old 
books of rare type and rarer contents have gone the same way. 
Even the old family Bible with its metal tipped cover and 
clasps, its crude pictures, and its precious records, was care- 
lessly thrown into a heap of rubbish; and replaced with some- 

124 



thing that glittered more, but was read less. In many in- 
stances old church records, invaluable, have gone up in smoke. 

There has never been anything more destructive of neigh- 
borhood history than house-cleaning. I am sorry to confess, 
that in my boyhood I took a hand in this kind of unholy 
vandalism. 

We must not blame the women, good souls ! It was born in 
them, at least twice a year, to haul out the rubbish, and scrape 
things clean. They had no Historical Societies in those days 
to take charge of what was to them a terrible nuisance. 

A wonderful change has come over us in this regard within 
the last twenty-five or thirty years. Intelligent men have 
woke up to the value of the past. 

Great learning and vast sums of money are now expended 
in exploring expeditions. They are exhuming the old, long 
buried cities — deciphering the hieroglyphics of the obelisks — 
diving into the catacombs — revealing the secrets of libraries 
where the books were made of bricks — searching the tablets 
and monuments of Palestine and Egypt, and Rome, and Greece. 
Even Nineveh and Babylon have been compelled to disgorge 
their secrets. The treasuries of the past are everywhere un- 
locked, and made to deliver up the knowledge they contain for 
the benefit of the future. 

Historical societies have called a halt to the destruction of 
history. They are gathering up and preserving in their 
archives what remains for the enlightment of the future. We 
welcome back "Old Mortality" to our grave-yards that he may 
chisel afresh, and render legible, the time-worn inscriptions, 
giving us the names and births and deaths and virtues and 
works of the fathers. 

The relics of the past are now accorded the sacredness to 
which they are entitled. We even bring the old spinning wheel 
from the garret (if it has not gone already into kindling wood), 
and garnish it for a place in the parlor. We can look at it 
with pride and reverence, though we don't know exactly how 
the old thing worked. 

Grandfather's tall clock is rejuvenated and brightened with 
gilt and counted as good as a fortune. 

There have been men in various communities, men of rare 
forethought and intelligence and observation, who dotted down 
the important events of their day, together with the prominent 

125 



actors connected with them. Their records of the men and 
women of their time are invaluable to us. 

Blessed among you be the memory of Peter Gumaer. He 
deserves a grand and imperishable monument. 

The Minisink Valley Historical Society could not have done 
a better thing than it has done — in according to that noble 
man the honor of which he is worthy — putting his writing in 
permanent form to be read and admired throughout the country. 

The Cuddebacks and Swartwouts, and Gumaers and Van 
Ettens, and Van Vliets, and Van Gordons, and Van Inwegens, 
and Van Aukens (and all the other Vans), as well as the Dewitts 
and Coles, and DePuys, and Terwilligers, and Kuykendalls, and 
Deckers, and Hornbecks, and Westfalls, and Cortwrights, and 
Schoonovers, and Westbrooks — and everybody else, ought to 
keep that author's name and character, and works in everlasting 
remembrance. 

I have perused that book with profound admiration, both of 
the writer and the contents. I regard it a great misfortune 
that the Talmage name does not once occur between the lids. 
I do not ask you, Mr. President, to print another edition for 
the purpose of supplying the omission, but you will permit 
me to show you that my family name would have been there 
but for a sad dispensation of Providence which caused the re- 
moval of my progenitors from the lower part of this valley 
in 1780. They lived in Montague in Revolutionary times, tak- 
ing a very active part in the defense of this region against the 
bloody invasions of the Indians and refugees. If you ever have 
opportunity to print Judge Clark's account of the relation of 
the men of Sussex to the people of this valley, the Talmage 
name will no doubt have a place in the book. 

My great-grandfather (Thos. Talmage), was advanced in 
years, but managed to take some care of his farm while his sons 
were away with their muskets. My own grandfather, then 
(Thos. Talmage Jr.), was a young man who lived with his 
father on a farm located, as he describes it, "on the West Branch 
of the Pepper Cotton, about two miles above Westbrook's 
Mills" (wherever that may be), ^iy grandfather was a very 
smart young man. He had a splendid little wife before he was 
twenty years old, and a fine baby before he was twenty-one, and 
twelve more children afterward. He beat his father in that 
respect, for the old man, though he had two wives, yet only 

126 



had eleven children all told. My own father, David Talmage, 
kept up the reputation of the family by giving twelve children 
to the world. INIy grandfather came of age in the stirring times 
of 1776. He, with an older brother, was enrolled with the 
militia, and was often in camp with your fathers waiting the 
attacks of the Indians. He was the orderly sergeant of his 
company and faithfully warned out his comrades when notified 
by his commander to gather them at the rendezvous, because 
"the Indians were coming." In June, 1778, he records that 
he was "on the fields" with his company some twelve days, daily 
expecting an attack. They were dimissed to their homes, but 
in July there was another call. With a burning fever upon him 
he threaded his way through the wilderness on horseback, to 
warn out his company, but became unconscious by the way, and 
was brought home by the instinct of his horse — was lifted from 
the saddle in delirium, and was in a dying condition for nearly 
three months, with what was then called the "long fever," after- 
wards the typhus. His father and three sisters were smitten 
with the same malady, and though the old man recovered, the 
sisters, aged fourteen, seventeen and twenty-one respectively, 
within three months were buried in a grave-yard near West- 
brook's Mills. My grandfather Providentially escaped the fate 
of many of his neighbors in the dreadful struggle of those times. 
His oldest brother, however, was with the men of Minisink, and 
laid his body with theirs on the fatal battle of July 22, 1779, a 
testimony to his fidelity to his country in the days of her peril. 
Some of you are doubtless aware that Talmage blood mingled 
with the blood of your fathers near Lackawaxen. You have read 
my uncle Daniel's name with those of his comrades on the monu- 
ment at Goshen. 

The family became so disheartened by the misfortunes that 
befell them, that in 1780 they sold out and returned to the 
region whence they had come; though Daniel left a widow and 
four sons in Sussex, and from them have doubtless descended 
the Talmages of that county. This grandfather, whom I well 
remember for I was a good deal with him in my early boyhood 
(I was thirteen years old when he died), was a sort of Peter 
Gumaer. 

A carpenter by trade — having erected a number of prominent 
buildings in his time, one of which was the Court House at 
Somerville in 1798. Yet for the most of his life he was a plain 

127 



farmer, but made much use of his pen. Of course In those days 
only comparatively few writings were published. It is only 
lately that I became informed that many of his manuscripts 
both in prose and verse have been preserved. Their literary 
ability has astonished me. I have no doubt that much of the 
contents of his garret, went the way of all garrets. But the 
records of his own and his father's family, births, residences, 
deaths and places of burials are marvelously minute and are 
proved to be correct all the way to 1829 only five years be- 
fore his death. Now you need not put this and that together 
and figure out my age for I am a young man yet. By one of 
his MSS. I lately went to the Presbyterian church yard of New 
Brunswick and found the graves of my great-grand parents — 
whose names and places of interment I had never known be- 
fore — although they had lain there since 1785 and '90 and I had 
passed near them one hundred times while in college and the 
Theological Seminary of that city. 

One of his papers penned in 1814 gives an account of what 
he terms ''The extraordinary Providences which happened to 
me in the course of my life." He says he wrote them out for the 
benefit of his children, he being then sixty years of age and in a 
feeble state of health and anticipating that his dissolution was 
near at hand though he lived nearly twenty years longer. Many 
of the incidents he noted down are of public interest and may yet 
be of profit to some Historical Society. 

Such men are valuable in their generation and their methods 
ought to stimulate us to put on paper for posterity our ex- 
periences and the notable events of our respective neighborhoods. 

Mr. President, 3^ou will pardon my apparent egotism in 
appropriating so much time whicli might have been better 
occupied. 

I thank the audience for indulging me so long and hearing 
me so patiently. 

My apology for this protracted speech is my kinship with the 
people of this valley as a natural inheritance from my ancestors 
and the delightful memories connected with my nearly ten years 
residence among you. 

Ma}' the revived associations and the grand festivities of this 
day unite our hearts more closcl}' together as citizens of a com- 
mon civil heritage and give decided impetus to the work 
(achievements) of the Minisink Valley Historical Society. 

128 



ADDRESS BY HON. HIRAM CLARK. 

The following is the full text of the interesting speech of 
Hon. Hiram C. Clark, of Sussex County, N. J., delivered at the 
Bi-Centennial celebration of the Settlement of the Minisink 
Valley, at Caudebcc Park, on the 22nd of July : 

Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen : When your 
honored Secretary, Dr. Cuddeback, wrote me in reference to this 
celebration, he stated, as I remember it, that I Avas expected 
to represent in part, the lower ]Minisink, or Delaware Valley, or 
more especially the townships of Montague, Sandyston and 
Walpack, in Sussex County, N. J. I am happy, Mr. President, 
in having the pleasure of greeting you to-day, and with you 
joining in the festivities of this bi-centennial. 

I would much prefer speaking extemporaneously, but fearing 
that under the inspiration and enthusiasms of the occasion, I 
might possibly become imbued with the guilt of continuance, I 
have hastily committed to paper the words that I would speak 
to-day, and sincerely trust that I shall not wear}^ you. 

My theme is "Montague, Sandyston and Walpack, and their 
relations to the Minisink Valley and Port Jervis." The busi- 
ness and social relations of the lower Delaware Valley, embraced 
in these townships and the Minisink Valley, have been closely 
identified with each other as far back as we have any history. 
The construction of the "Old Mine Road," more than 200 years 
ago, which extended from the Water Gap, on the Delaware, 
through the townships of Walpack, Sandyston and Montague, 
to Esopus, now the city of Kingston, on the Hudson, was the 
first link in the chain that "bound these valle3^s together, and 
100 years afterwards, during those troublesome times with the 
Indians, that tried men's souls, this bond of union was cemented 
by the blood of the brave men, who fell in both valleys, while 
defending their wives and children from their merciless and com- 
mon foes. 

While Major Swartwout and Captain Cuddeback were fight- 
ing the Indians in this historical valley. Colonel Abram Van 
Campen, Capt. Johannes Westbrook, Capt. Abram Shimer, 
Capt. James Bonnell and their brave comrades, were fighting 
the same, or other hostile bands, in the lower Delaware Valley. 
Half a century later when Port Jervis became the commercial 
center of this whole valley, the business relations between the 

129 



farmers of Walpack, Sandjston and Montague, and the mer- 
chants of Port Jervk, assumed greater proportions and have 
continued in •constantly increasing amount until the present 
day. 

The names of the Farnums, the Conklings, and the St. Johns 
were familiar to every school boy and girl in the lower Dela- 
ware Valley, forty or fifty years ago, because it was to them 
that their fathers sold the products of their farms, and from 
them they purchased in exchange such general merchandise as 
their needs required. 

These townships, described by your historian, Peter E. 
Gumaer, as the "lower neighborhood," are also historic ground, 
both in local reminiscences and in public history. The town- 
ship of Walpack was the home of Judge Timothy Symmes, 
and the birth place of John Cleve Symmes, Jr. Judge Symmes 
presided in Sussex Common Pleas from 1777 to 1791, succeeding 
his brother John, who also resided in Walpack, and resigned 
the position of Judge to accept an appointment on the bench 
of the Supreme Court. Maria, a daughter of Judge Symmes, 
was the wife of President William Henry Harrison, and the 
grandmother of his excellency, Benjamin Harrison, our present 
Chief Magistrate. Here too, in 1737, Rev. George Wilhelm 
Mancius organized one of the four Reformed Dutch churches, 
of the Minisink Valley ; the Walpack church situated in the 
bend of the Delaware River and on the "Old Mine Road," be- 
fore refen-ed to, and is the same spot upon which the present 
Reformed church now stands. 

The township of Sandyston was made historical because of the 
fact, that within her boundaries there were committed some 
of the most horrible Indian atrocities in the Delaware Valley. 
Here lived the brave Captain Johannes Westbrook on the farm 
owned by the late Jacob Westbrook, Esq., and who erected 
thereon a stone dwelling house, which was also used as a fort, 
and in which were numerous port-holes, from which they could 
fire upon an approaching enemy. 

Montague is also rich in historical reminiscences. It was the 
home of Captain Shimer, Captain Bonnell and Captain Peter 
Westbrook — the latter falling a victim to Indian atrocities in 
1779. In later years it was the birthplace and home of that 
distinguished statesman and journalist, the late ex-Gov. Wm. 
Bross, of Illinois. Here, too, in 1737, was organized the Re- 

180 



formed Dutch Church of Minisink, and in this township is 
located the famous Minisink Island, in the Delaware River, from 
which possibly your Historical Society takes its name; nor is 
this all ; in still later years some of the best blood and brain of 
the successful men of your growing city of Port Jervis has come 
to you from the farm homes of Montague, Sandyston and Wal- 
pack. They have furnished to you laborers, mechanics and 
brainy business men ; they have funiished to you merchants and 
editors, lawyers and judges, bank presidents and doctors, while 
that noble institution, the "Hunt Memorial Hospital," will long 
remain as an enduring monument to a Sandyston boy. They 
have furnished to some of 30ur young men excellent wives and 
sweethearts; to some of your young ladies excellent husbands 
and homes, and last, though not least, they have furnished that 
many-sided business man, the present Mayor of your rival 
city of Tri-States, the Honorable William A. Drake. But more 
than all this they have furnished for your own city of Port 
Jervis, one, or two, of the best Mayors you have ever had, in the 
persons of my distinguished friends, Honorable William H. 
Nearpass, and the Honorable Abram Shimer. 

Without controversy, therefore, Mr. President, great are the 
townships of Montague, Sandyston and Walpack ; great are the 
rival cities of Tri-States and Port Jervis, and one of the great- 
est and grandest organizations of them both is the Minisink 
Valley Historical Society. 

Mr. President; may I be indulged in a brief personal remi- 
niscence.? While for more than twenty years I have been a resi- 
dent of the town of Newton, the Delaware Valley has to me 
tender recollections and associations. It was the land of my 
birth, and the home of my father and mother, and in that beauti- 
ful valley for many long years have they been quietly resting 
and sleeping, on the grassy banks of the Delaware Valley, and 
that old Reformed Dutch Church, of Minisink was my father's 
church home, and there, away back in the days of my childhood, 
I listened to the first gospel sermon that I ever heard from 
the lips of the devoted Christian minister, Rev. Cornelius E. 
Elting, whose memory I revere to-day. A few years later, when 
left an orphan, I found a happy and hospitable home, for four 
years, in that same valley, with one who was for many years 
one of your best citizens, and his amiable companion, who was 
to me as kind and good as a mother. One year ago to-day that 

131 



friend, and benefactor cordially grasped my hand, in this beauti- 
ful grove, bade me welcome to the festivities of that celebration 
and sat by my side on this platform ; but to-day, he too is quietly 
resting and sleeping in your city of the dead, on the bank of 
that same Delaware River, near which he was born eighty years 
ago. 

Mr. President, I reverence the memory of Amos Van Etten 
and commend to the young men to-day his life and character 
as worthy of emulation. 

I thank you Mr. President, and gentlemen of the Committee, 
for the privilege of looking in your faces and joining m the 
festivities of to-day, on this historical spot. I extend to you 
the cordial greetings of your sister County of Sussex and close 
with the hope and expectation that in the years that are to 
come, your beautiful city of Port Jervis, and the Minisink 
Valley Historical Society, will continue to prosper as in the 
past, and the young men of to-day, and those that follow them, 
will emulate your example in maintaining this organization and 
thereby perpetuate the memory of the heroic dead of the Mini- 
sink Vallc}' for all future time. 

ADDRESS OF REV. A. A. HAINES. , 

Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen : The American 
people are soon to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the dis- 
covery of this continent by Columbus. The memorable voyage 
of 1492 revealed a new world to civilized nations and made the 
records of modern history far different from what they other- 
wise would be. We can scarcely estimate the influence of the 
landing of Columbus upon society and upon the world's pro- 
gress. And if a great historical event deserves recognition, few 
have greater importance. 

Halfway back between the coming of the great discoverer and 
our own times, took place the event we are now commemorating. 
The settlement of this then secluded valley has had its influence 
in shaping the great facts of American history. For two hun- 
dred years after the continent was revealed this region remained 
unchanged, its primeval forests undisturbed save by the wild 
beasts which abounded in them and the red hunters who regarded 
this as their very Paradise. They shot the deer, killed the wild 
fowl, and drew the abundant fish from the waters. The smoke 

132 



which curled beneath the mountain shadows came only from their 
wigwams. Settlements had been made along the seaboard in 
many places in the early part of the seventeenth century, but 
Minisink must wait until the century draws near its close, before 
the first settlers arrive with their families, coming on foot along 
the great Indian trail that leads from the Hudson River to the 
DelaMare. 

Some have called the rifle the precursor of civilization in wild 
unsettled regions. But rather may we take the woodman's axe 
as the true emblem. There is no civilization until the giant trees 
of the forest are made to lower their heads, fields are cleared and 
cabins erected. The rifle may be an improvement upon all Indian 
weapons, but never until the axe swings, is the work begun of 
reclaiming a district of country from barbarism. The coming 
of the little company who settled in Peenpack was the earliest 
dawn of civilization here. 

I am glad that you have assumed a date no further back than 
two hundred years, for I have little confidence in the traditions 
of an older settlement of the Minisink Valley. 

The four centuries from Columbus's discovery to our own 
times are each marked by their peculiarities. Thus the sixteenth 
century was especially that of discovery, when the Cabots dis- 
covered New Foundland and coasted as far down as Florida; 
Cortez conquered Mexico ; Balboa Central America, and Pizarro 
overran Peru, the Portuguese seized on Brazil and the French 
claimed Canada. 

The seventeenth century is characterized by the forming of 
the settlements in which we are more specially interested, when 
the Protestant countries of Europe sent their colonies and estab- 
lished them at points along the coast from Massachussetts on 
the north, to the Carolinas on the south. 

Then the eighteenth century beheld the gi'owth of these 
colonies, until they became thirteen Provinces, then thirteen 
States of the American Union. In this century was nurtured 
the lovers of fi^eedom who possessed that sturdy character which 
marked the men of the Revolution and has given us the noblest 
examples of patriots and citizens. That was the century forma- 
tive for men and character which delivered us from the Yoke of 
Britain, and with the ending of the Revolution, established our 
independence. 

The nineteenth century has been one of Constitutional Govern- 

133 



ment, under which our Republic has grown to become the mighty 
Nation it now is. Doubhng every twenty-five years, we have 
grown from 3,000,000 to 65,000,000, and by the strides of pro- 
gress we are making will soon be unsurpassed by any Nation 
of the globe. As we gaze on the National map, with its forty- 
four States, our hearts swell with admiration, and we bless God 
that America is the land of our birth and our home. The lines 
have fallen to us in pleasant places and we have a goodly heri- 
tage. From the favored position we now occupy we may gaze 
back upon these two centuries closing, and pronounce them to 
be wonderful in the highest achievements of men. The first was 
formative, ending with the wondrous gain, for ourselves and for 
humanity, of a Republic on a grand scale, whose Government 
was for the people and not the benefit of some royal family. For 
a whole century we have been a living protest against the 
tyranny of kings and proclaiming that a great people may be 
happy and prosperous without a human sovereign. The world 
is growing better through the influence that American example 
exerts. That good will never perish. The world cannot go 
back to the old ideas of the divine right of kings. No soul that 
has nurtured into being some great thought has existed in vain. 
No brave arm that has parried the blow of tyranny has been 
uplifted uselessly. The broken shackles can never be placed 
again on the limbs of the slave, but when progress is made it 
stands forever. The little rills of inffuence, which had their 
origin in Secluded neighborhoods and remote years, have be- 
come the mighty stream that must yet bear down every system 
of oppression and evil. Under the shadow of these mountains 
the youths of a past century developed into men, and learned 
their highest lessons from the forests and from God. Cities 
. could never have produced them — these yeoman of the land, who 
owned the soil and cultivated it with their own hands. Small 
events become mighty in their results. The little rivulet as it 
continues its flow becomes the unchecked river. The old Indian 
trail and the footway of the settler are made the wide public 
highway or give place to the railway with its engines and swift 
moving trains. The past has its influence upon the present, as 
the present will upon the future. As we go onward we feel the 
pressure of by-gone days, as well as the attractions of the here- 
after glory our hearts anticipate. The gathered strength of the 
years behind is ours to-day. While we emulate the virtues of 

134 



our ancestors, we have ten-fold advantages above them to plan 
and do, and in proportion to all our opportunities must we live 
for God and our fellow men. 

The pioneers who came two hundred years ago sleep beneath 
the shadow of the mountain. Theirs is the long and peaceful 
sleep of men who acted well their part. Their dust is holy, their 
names are honored, and we owe to them a debt of gratitude for 
all they did for us. They labored and we have entered into their 
labors. They sowed the harvest and we are reaping the bene- 
fits. Are they permitted from the spirit world to look back 
and behold the scenes of to-day? Then ma}^ they and we re- 
joice together — they who planted and we who are reaping the 
fruits of their toil. Could they forcast the future.-^ They an- 
ticipated all this which our eyes have seen. Their hearts may 
never have thrilled with the jubilation of triumphant success. 
Yet they saw the victory from afar, and started the march of 
events which turned the wilderness into a fiaiitful field, and the 
Indian hunting grounds into the homes of a teeming popula- 
tion. They were men of faith, they had love to God, and for 
their religion's sake had been exiled from their homes ; but here, 
on this new continent, they claimed the land for Jesus and 
felt the guiding hand of Providence. God was sustaining them, 
and using them for his own great and wondrous purpose. We 
cannot believe that all this was unperceived by them. They 
lived, they died, by dying like Moses on Pisgah's top with eye 
not dim nor their natural force abated. Moses saw all the goodly 
land and Lebanon, and from Gilead to the utmost sea. We can-' 
not say our pilgrim fathers who came from England, Holland 
and France, for freedom to worship God, conceived all the great- 
ness of this Republic stretching from ocean to ocean, yet the 
mighty kingdom was in their hearts and they believed that God 
would save the world through America. 

We have exceeded the fondest hopes whichever our ancestors 
entertained, but the future of our land, the future will as much 
exceed all the past and all the present. Glories untold await the 
young men of our favored land. They have come to the king- 
dom at such a time as this when opportunities the most mag- 
nificent are presented to us, and the avenues of usefulness and 
goodness are open on every side. Attainment is within the 
grasp of their arms, and the full securing of all to which a 
sanctified ambition prompts them. May the pious spirit which 

135 



filled the breasts of our ancestors pervade the whole American 
Nation and then shall it be said of us, "Happy the people whose 
God is the Lord. The Lord shall be our God, and we shall be 
his chosen heritage and a holy generation." 

ADDRESS BY J. H. VAN ETTEN. 

The following is the address of J. Hixon Van Etten, Esq., of 
Milford, Pa., delivered at Caudebec Park, July 22, at the Bi- 
Centennial celebration of the settlement, by the Hollanders and 
Huguenots, of the Minisink Valley : 

Involuntarily we begin making history with our earliest 
breath. The very fact of our existence changes the currents of 
some life, animates some mind with new thoughts and aspira- 
tions, and restrains, while it kindles, other desires and ambi- 
tions. A mere figment of the imagination — a word casually 
spoken, or omitted — a slip of some pen, and a new impress is 
stamped on the generation and goes deepening and widening 
down through time. Jacob Jansen and the good Fraulein, 
Annetje Adrianse, soon to be Frau Jansen, when they stood 
before the Dutch Dominie, had little thought of the result of 
that union — beyond the sharing of each others joys and sor- 
rows — the better and the worse of the present, or that within 
five years their offspring, Jacob, would, by baptism, accident- 
ally, or some freak, or momentary design, become the founder 
of a new name, and place a descendant in the predicament you 
now see him, 225 years afterwards. 

Upon such a slender thread hangs the fact that I humbly 
represent one of the oldest settlers of this Minisink Valley. 

It is not my purpose to trace the wanderings of my ancestors 
or to point out the places they inhabited or the deeds for which 
they were conspicuous. However interesting this might be to 
their immediate descendants, I do not forget that there are 
many here who can also point to renowned ancestry and trace 
through many generations, a vein of valor and of humor. The 
historian dealing with cold facts traces the course of the past 
and gives just estimate to the virtues of all. 

We sometimes cherish traditions handed from father to son 
roseate with tinges of pride and rounded and smoothed by 
tongues too kind to transmit the failings and follies or vices of 
those whom they revere. 

136 



Not long since I received a letter iia regard to an early 
settler of the valley and this loving sentiment has been breathed 
in the ears of his descendants until it has become a household 
word. "He was a verj^ great farmer; employed thirty mowers 
and twelve span of horses. He was remarkable for fervent piety 
and would often read the Bible and sing psalms 'till late at 
night." And when I turn to the Pennsylvania archives I find 
under date of 24<th of June, 1756, a report made by James 
Young, Commissary General of Ye Musters to Honorable 
Robert Hunter ^Morris, Esq., Governor and Commander-in- 
Chief of Pennsylvania, in which it is contained, concerning this 
same individual as follows : "They expressed themselves as if 
they thought the Province was obliged to them for allowing 
this party to be in their house ; also made use of very arrogant 
expressions of the Commissioners and the People of Philadel- 
phia in general. They seem to make a mere merchandise of the 
people stationed here ; selling rum at 8d per gill." 

A venerable Quaker gentleman related to me the following 
instance. He came to Stroudsburg from Bucks County, near 
Philadelphia, in the early part of this century and opened a 
store ; wishing to replenish the annual supply of molasses and 
other staples, lie sent his teamster to Philadelphia to bring 
them. On his return he stopped in the immediate neighbor- 
hood of the merchant's birth place and early residence, and dur- 
ing tlie night a severe storm of snow came on which prevented 
liim from resuming his journey for several days. Meanwhile 
the good Quaker was impatiently pacing his store and wonder- 
ing why the man did not appear with the goods. Finally he 
came and was met with a scowl and the fretful demand of what 
had delayed him so long. "Well," he answered, "you know I 
had a wagon, and there has been a snow storm." "Where was 
thee when it snowed.?^" "At Doylestown." "Why," said the 
Quaker indignantly, "there is where I was born and brought 
up ; the people all knew my father and me ; why didn't thee 
go out and borrow a sled.^" "Oh," said the man, "that was the 
trouble. I did borrow one, but when the owner found out who 
I was and for whom I was working he would not let me take it. 
And I found out the less I said about you and your folks the 
more likely I was to get one, but they all soon found me out 
and I had to ti*ade molasses for the one I have." 

I may be pardoned, however, if I refer briefly to the scttle- 

137 



ment of my ancestor in the valley below Milford. January 12, 
1756, Ben. Franklin sent to Capt. Vanetta, of the township of 
Upper Smithfield, a letter instructing him to proceed to raise a 
company of Foot consisting of thirty able men, including two 
Sergeants, with which he was to protect the inhabitants, assist- 
ing them while they threshed out and secured their com and 
scouting on the outside of the settlement from time to time as 
he judged necessary. A line of forts had been established 
along the northern frontiers of the province from Northkill 
to Hyndshaw fort, the most northerly of the chain, and at this 
place Johannis Van Etten, my great grandfather, was stationed 
as a sergeant. He was at this time a young man about twenty- 
four years of age, and as the record of events of that period 
reveals, took a prominent share in the dangers incident to 
frontier life. Tradition relates, and it is verified by a stone 
bearing the inscription 1727 now in the walls of a house belong- 
ing to the family, said to have been taken from the chimney 
of the first house erected by him, that he settled in what is now 
Delaware township, about five miles below Milford, at that date, 
and from that day to the present, the land has belonged to the 
family. He was commissioned captain and was in command as 
such at the battle of the Coneshaugh. 

The state of feeling may be shown by the postscript of a 
letter written to President Reed at that time, communicating 
intelligence of the fight : 

"Respective Sir — I'me now under difficulties of Mind; what 
the event will be God only knows. The people are Dermitened 
to Evacuate the Country, as there appears no prospect of re- 
lief by the Militia." 

Troublous times — dark days — the present in gloom, the 
future in doubt ; yet those men never faltered in their determina- 
tion to do or die. Doubtless they had in mind the scenes and 
events of Valley Forge where the Continental army had en- 
camped but three short years before. And as they heard of the 
struggles on the wider field for national life they were cheered 
and sustained in their efforts to repel a more insidious, lurking 
and dangerous foe, the wily savage and his white and treach- 
erous coadjutor. 

You, gentlemen of the Historical Society, are engaged in a 
noble effort. Had there been at an earlier period a realizing 
sense of the interest which would attach to the events of those 

138 



times — had the former generations preserved these traditions 
and written down the personal expressions of the actors in the 
dark and bloody dramas of those days — we should have a his- 
tory full of interest for every one here, and not be groping 
among the ashes and embers of the fast-dying past. What is 
now doubtful and obscure, could by a line or a word from 
those not long gone, be made clear and certain. 

Holding my grandfather's hand, I passed in boyish wonder- 
ment over the battlefield of Coneshaugh, where his father com- 
manded, and I heard the details of that fight and the repetition 
of his father's version of its incidents, and as well those of the 
earlier times. But these tales created then but a passing in- 
terest, and they are now forever gone. They were stories of 
hardships, privations, endurance, courage and danger — of the 
days when men worked in the fields with their rifles by their 
sides, and the women in their household duties behind barred 
stockades and doors. But these generations have passed away 
and with them a mine of valuable incidents and facts, and we 
to-day are groping on the shores of that eternity into which 
they have fallen, endeavoring to discern the foot-prints and to 
read the characters they inscribed on the pages of their day 
and generation. It is well that this society has undertaken to 
rescue from a fast-growing oblivion some facts and incidents 
and preserve them for future generations ; you will have the 
sincere thanks of your posterity. 

Our ancestors were religiously inclined and to their love 
for church, and to the fact that they were particular in the 
observance of those religious customs instilled in their minds, 
brought from the Fatherland, and in maintaining a connection 
with the church, and in early bringing their children to be 
baptized, we owe much of what we know of their names and 
connections. 

Strangers in a wild and unbroken land, surrounded by hidden 
dangers, a foe in constant ambush, it was natural that the}^ 
should rely on an arm mightier than their own, that they should 
have a fervid, clinging trust in God and look to Him for pro- 
tection from dangers unseen. The chief element of value in 
these recollections lies in the fact that they bring before us the 
lessons of Christian courage, of self-denial, of unfaltering faith, 
of unyielding conviction, of unbending determination and un- 

139 



flinching patriotism, which imbued the lives and illumined the 
characters of our ancestors. 

These anniversary days bring to us all an enjoyment. We 
cease from the cares of business, and seek a respite from the 
active labors of our daily lives. These days are deeply sig- 
nificant and suggestive for every true citizen and descendant of 
the early settlers of this valley. They remind us of one price- 
less inheritance in that liberty and freedom for which the 
fathers fought and on bloody fields and in desolate and starving 
camps suffered so many sacrifices. 

They remind us vividly that there were principles of govern- 
ment — that there was love of home and kindred, for which 
men were willing to undergo self-denial, persistent heroism, a 
courage of conviction which could not falter in the face of 
danger, wliich could not be quenched by reverses nor over- 
thrown by disaster, which did not waver under personal peril, 
which forgot hunger, poverty, cold and which endured with a 
noble fidelity even to death itself. 

Principles bought at such a price and with such sacrifices 
should be transmitted in all their original beauty and strength 
to our posterity, and it is for this that we should cherish and 
honor these anniversary days — that we should recall the deeds 
of daring done by our forefathers — that we should recount 
their privations — that with grateful memory we should build 
monuments commemorating their virtues and inscribe on the 
pages of our local history their heroic deeds that we may point 
to our children the noble record, and that it may be to them a 
grand and inspiring incentive to emulate in all that was great 
and good the virtues of their ancestors. 

What we have to fear in these times is the perversion and con- 
tracting of these ideas of manliness and devotion to principles. 
Peculiar perils ever increasing through the ignorance, cupidity 
and demagogueism of men seem to threaten us and our in- 
stitutions. 

Anarchism wishes to pervert liberty of speech so as to include 
an utterly inexpensible license, and an unstable violation of law 
which if permitted would soon destroy the very foundations of 
social order. 

New theories as to the rights of that wealth which each 
of us is laying by as a solace in our feeble days and an in- 
heritance for our children, are springing up which, if allowed 

140 



to take root and flourish, would soon overshadow and wipe ouf" 
individual ambition and effort and finally destroy freedom and 
leeal security for person and property. 

We should educate our children by reading to them the 
lessons of the past-educate them to the nobler prmciples ot 
intelligent government; teach them that their liberty cannot 
become plastic clay in the hands of reckless and unscrupu ous 
men. It must have the strength of iron with nerves of steel, 
unbending and unyielding. A rock on which all may stand but 
which cannot be overthrown or broken. This result can on y 
be accomplished by the careful training of the youth to tuUy 
comprehend and practice those principles which ennobled our 
ancestors-which elevate mankind, dignify labor, broaden and 
deepen the channels of intelUgent action and ground all char- 
acter on the everlasting foundation of a. Christian s love ot 
home and country. 



141- 



CHAPTER VIII 

PIONEER LIFE 

A STORY OF THE PET FAWN. 

I think it was about the year 1771 or 1772, during the 
early settlement of the Minisink Valley on the Dela- 
ware River, just after my father had finished cutting 
off our back new-ground, that we had a clearing bee, 
drawing stone and building fence. Wild animals, such 
as wolves, panthers, wild-cats and foxes, were very 
troublesome to the farmers, and as a result many of 
these pioneers became very expert marksmen. 

We had just finished our dinner and sat around a 
smoldering fire, smoking om' pipes, while our guns 
were stacked around a large stump near by. I had been 
telhng about an art I had been practicing, in which I 
was beginning to count myself somewhat proficient ; that 
was whenever I was directing my aim, where there were 
more than one bird or animal, I watched for the instant 
two or more came in range, then fired, sometimes killing 
two or more with one bullet. 

I had scarcely finished telling of my skill as a marks- 
man, when we were all startled by a hideous howling 
and barking, which appeared to be coming from a 
swamp back of our clearing, and all the time drawing 
nearer to us. 

Some one spoke up and said: "Now, Abe, I think you 
will have an opportunity to try your art." I reached 
for my gun and listening for a moment or two, recog- 
nized the barking to be that of wolves. I ran to get 
nearer the woods, in order to have a better and closer 

143 



range over my mark and had just leveled my gun on a 
stump, when a little fawn aj)peared in the clearing and 
came running tow^ard us, panting and snorting at every 
jump. I then knew that it was pursued by wolves and 
decided to await the coming of the enemy. In another 
instant three wolves dashed into the opening, pursuing 
the fawn with a ferocity that chilled the blood in my 
veins. 

I waited another instant for the savage animals to 
come into range, when all three came up side hij side as 
if the I) were lining up for target practice. 

When my gun cracked, tw^o of the brutes tumbled 
over and began kicking the air, and the third one turned 
back limping and yelping toward the woods. 

The other men up to this time had forgotten their 
guns, but now came running toward me with their ])ieces 
leveled. I shouted, "Don't shoot the fawn; always shoot 
the enemy." "Shoot the wolf"! They all fired at the 
receding wolf, but he was already partially hidden in 
the woods and their fire only served to frighten him 
and increase the speed of his retreat. 

The fawn seemed to realize that we had defended it 
and hung round the edge of the clearing for several 
days. It finally found a faithful friend and protector 
in one of our cows, who had just parted with a veal calf. 

It ran for a while with the cattle around the fields and 
finally came with them into the barnyard. In the 
course of a week or two, it became so tame that any one 
could go up to it and pat it. The children began feeding 
and salting it and after that it got to be almost a nuis- 
ance, following them into the house and even taking 
victuals off the table. 

One day an Indian, who was in the habit of stopping 
at our house, met the httle pet in the path near the edge 
of the wood. The fawn had forgotten all fear of man 

144 



and ran directly toward him. He, not knowing that it 
had been adopted into our family, shot it and came car- 
rying it to the house. Throwing it down in our door, he 
addressed my wife as follows: "White squaw, make 
quick dinner." "Good Indian" — "He bring nice meat 
present." 

JVIany of the pioneers of Minisink became prominent 
in the Revolutionary War. They kept slaves to do the 
ordinary farm work and depended on them especially 
while the able-bodied men were away to the war. 

The following will give my readers some idea of the 
interest taken in that war by the Minisink settlers. 

Capt. Abram Cuddeback was a commissioned officer 
of the Revolution and one of the few survivors of the 
Battle of Minisink, described in detail elsewhere. 



145 




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CHAPTER IX 

A STORY. 

WASHINGTON'S REWARD OF FIDELITY. 

One of Captain Cuddeback's slaves had betrayed a 
trust, and after the family had gathered around the 
fireside in the evening, the Captain called the slave 
and bid him be seated, as he was about to relate a story 
for his benefit, and proceeded to entertain the company 
with the following incident of the Revolution : 

"When I was stationed at Fort Montgomery, and 
for days before the fort was taken, the call came to our 
Colonel for a detachment of men to guard the fastenings 
of a huge chain, which had been forged and stretched 
across the river to prevent the enemies ships from going 
up from below. Our Colonel came to me and in his 
good-natured way said, 'Abe, I have not an officer I 
can spare to take charge of that chain across the Hud- 
son River. It is a very important duty and I know you 
are a very good waterman. I am going to send you, 
and intrust to you the oversight of these men. Take 
these fourteen men, go to the river and see that none of 
the enemy's spies loosen that chain and remain on duty 
until reheved by my orders.' I took the men and pro- 
ceeded to the river. All we had with us were our guns, 
axes, and one day's rations. Arriving at the river we 
were unable to find a boat to cross over to the east side, 
where we were to station ourselves, and the question 
of crossing became a very serious one. There were 
three large logs lying on the shore and I ordered some 
of my men to cut some poles and some others to look 

147 



up some spikes, which they did, and we made a float 
of the logs on which we crossed to the other side. Dur- 
ing the day some of the boys had caught some fish and 
in the evening built a fire to roast them. Although the 
fire was well covered, there must have been some light 
which attracted the enemy's attention to our position, 
for all at once a cannon ball struck in the bank beside 
us, and a loud booming noise in the distance revealed 
the fact that we were a target for the enemy's guns. 

"All my men sprang up in a terrible state of excite- 
ment and ran up the river. I followed them for some 
distance and tried to halt them, but there was no use, 
they had deserted their post and left me. I returned to 
my place and performed the duties of the guard alone, 
which on account of the chain being supported in the 
middle by logs to keep it from sinking, it was necessary 
to tighten and loosen the windless with the rising and 
falling of the tide. 

In the morning Fort INIontgomery was taken and I 
found myself within the enemy's lines. They made me a 
flattering offer to join them, but I retreated and found 
my way back to our camp, where I reported my experi- 
ence to my Colonel. A short time after that Washing- 
ton arrived at the camp, and I was very much surprised 
when one of his bodyguard came to our tent and in- 
quired for me. I, reluctantly, went to headquarters, 
fearing that the men deserting their post at the river 
might be laid to my negligence in some way, but I was 
greatly relieved when my Colonel met me at the entrance 
and informed me that I had won great favor with Gen. 
Washington for my faithful performance of duty. He 
then took me in and introduced me to the one man of 
the Revolution, whom I had so much desired to see. 
Gen. George Washington. The General came forward 
and with a hearty shake of the hand said, 'Cuddeback, I 

148 



want to thank you at this time for a strict adherence to 
duty and recommend that you receive the promotion you 
justly deserve. If we had more men Hke you this great 
country of ours would soon be free.' Then turning to 
the Colonel, he addressed him as follows: 'Colonel, you 
will see to it, that this man Cuddeback is promoted to 
the rank of Captain and given a company the first op- 
portunity.' Washington then mounted his horse and 
galloped away; his manly form swaying in the saddle 
and his sword clicking against his spurs at every bound. 

GEN. HATHORN'S OFFICIAL REPORT OF THE 
BATTLE OF MINISINK. 

Warwick, July 27, 1779. 
Gov. Clinton : 

Dear Sir — In conformity to the Military Law, I embrace 
this first opportunity to communicate to your excellency my 
proceedings on a late tour of duty with my regiment. On the 
evening of the 21st of this instant, I received an order from 
his excellency. Gen. Washington, together with a requisitiou 
of the commissary of prisoners, to furnish one hundred men of 
my regiment for to guard the British prisoners on their way 
to Easton, at the same time received an express from Minisink 
that the Indians were ravaging and burning the place. 

I ordered three companies of my regiment, including the 
exempt company, to parade for the purpose of a guard. The 
other three companies to march immediately to Minisink. On 
the 22nd I arrived with a part of my people at Minisink, where 
I found Col. Tusten, of Goshen, and Maj. Meeker, of New 
Jersey, with parts of their regiments, who had marched with 
about eighty men up the river a few miles. 

I joined this party with about forty men, the whole amount- 
ing to one hundred and twenty men, officers included. A spy 
came in and informed me the enemy lay about four hours be- 
fore at Mongaup, six miles distant from us. Our people ap- 
peared in high spirits. We marched in pursuit with an inten- 
tion either to fall on them by sui-prise or to gain in front and 
ambush them. We were soon informed that they were on their 

149 



march up the river. I found it impracticable to surprise them 
on the ground that they no\y were and took my route along the 
old Keshethton path. The Indians encamped at the mouth of 
Halfway Brook. We encamped at 12 o'clock at night at Skin- 
ner's saw mill, three miles and a half from the enemy, where we 
lay the remainder of the night. The mountains were so ex- 
ceedingly rugged and high we could not possible get at them 
as they had passed the grounds the most favorable for us to 
attack them on before we could overtake them. Skinner's is 
about eighteen miles from ^linisink. At daylight on the morn- 
ing of the 23rd, after leaving our horses and disengaging of 
everything heavy, we marched on with intention to make the at- 
tack the moment an opportunity offered. The Indians, prob- 
ably from some discovery they had made of us, marched with 
more alacrity than usual with an intention to get their prison- 
ers, cattle and plunder, taken at Minisink, over the river. 

They had almost effected getting their cattle and baggage 
across, when we discovered them at Lackawack, twenty-seven 
miles from Minisink, some Indians in the river and some had 
got over. It was determined in Council to make an attack at 
this place. 

I therefore disposed of the men into three divisions, ordered 
Col. Tusten to command the one on the right and to take post 
about three hundred yards distance on an eminence to secure 
our right ; sent Col. Wisner with another division to file out to 
the left and to dispose of himself in the like manner. In order 
to prevent the enemy from gaining any advantage on our flank,, 
the other division under my command to attack them with that 
vigor necessary to Strike Terror in such a foe. 

Capt. Tyler with the advanced guard unhappily discharged 
his piece before the division could be properly posted, which put 
me under the necessity of bringing on the action. I ordered my 
division to fix bayonets and push forcibly on them, which or- 
der being resolutely executed, put the Indians in the utmost 
confusion, great numbers took to the river, who fell from the 
well directed fire of our riflemen, and incessant blaze from our 
musketry, without returning any fire. The divisions in the 
rear, not subject to order, broke some advancing down the hill 
toward me, others fled into the woods. I soon perceived the 
enemy's rally on our right and recrossing the river to gain the 
heights I found myself under the necessity to rally all my force^ 

150 



which by this time was much less than I expected. The enemy 
by this time had collected in force and from the best accounts 
that can be collected received a reinforcement from Keshethon, 
began to fire on our left. We returned the fire and kept up a 
constant bush firing up the hill from the river, in which the 
brave Capt. Tyler fell; several were wounded. The people be- 
ing exceedingly fatigued obliged me to take post on a height, 
which proved to be a strong and advantageous ground. The 
enemy repeatedly advanced in from forty to one hundred yards 
distance, and were as repeatedly repulsed. 

I had now but forty-five men (officers included), who had 
lost their command naturally drew toward me. The Spirits of 
these few, notwithstanding their fatigue, situation, and unal- 
laying thirst, added to the cruel yelling of those bloody mons- 
ters, the seed of Anak in size, exceed thought or description. 
We defended this ground near three hours and a half, during 
the whole time one blaze without intermission was kept up on 
both sides. Here we had three men killed and nine wounded. 
Among the wounded was Lt.-Col. Tusten, in the hand; Maj. 
Meeker in the shoulder, Adj. Finch in the leg, Capt. Jones in 
the foot and Ensign Wood in the wrist. The chief of our peo- 
ple was wounded by angle shots from the Indians from behind 
rocks and trees. 

Our rifles here were very useful. I found myself under the 
necessity of ceasing the fire, our ammunition from the con- 
tinual fire of more than five hours naturally suggested that it 
must be exhausted, ordered no person to shoot without having 
his object sure, and that no shot be lost. 

This gave spirits to the enemy, who formed their whole 
strength and forced the northeast part of our lines. Here we 
gave them a severe Gaul. Our people not being able to support 
the lines, retreated down the hill, precipitately toward the river. 
The enemy kept up a constant fire on our right, which was re- 
turned. 

The people by this time were so scattered I found myself un- 
equal to rally them again. Consequently every man made choice 
of his own way. Thus ended the action. 

The following are missing in the whole from the last ac- 
counts : Col. Ellison's Regiment — Lt.-Col. Tusten, Capt. Jones, 
Capt. Wood, Capt. Little, Capt. Duncan and twelve privates. 

161 



One private of New Jersey,- Adj. Finch, Ensign Wood and one 
private of my regiment. In the whole twenty-one men. 

Several wounded men are in. I hope others will yet be found. 
I received a wound on my head, one in my leg and one in my 
thigh — slightly. The one in my thigh from inattention is a 
little troublesome. 

Several spies that lay near the enemy the night following 
the action, informed us that they moved off their wounded in 
canoes on the day following ; that on the ground where they lay 
there was great quantities of blood, and the whole encampment 
was marked with wounded men. Great numbers of plasters and 
bloody rags was found. Although we suffered by the loss of 
so many brave men, the best for the number without sensible 
error in the precinct. It's beyond doubt the enemy suffered 
much more. From the various parts of the action can be col- 
lected a greater number of Indian dead than we lost, besides 
their wounded. The number of Indians and Tories is not as- 
certained; some accounts say 90, others 120, others 160. 

Col. Seward, of New Jersey, with 93 men was within five 
or six miles of the action on the Pennsylvania side, did not 
hear the firing, approached and lay near the Indians all night 
following, and from their conduct and groaning of the wounded 
gave rise to the belief that they had been in some action where 
they had suffered, and would have attacked them around their 
fire, but a mutiny arose among some of his people which pre- 
vented — a very unfortunate and to be lamented circumstance. 
If in their situation he had attacked them, with the common 
smiles of Providence, he must have succeeded and put them to 
total rout. 

Dear Governor, it's not in my power to point out to you 
the disagreeable situation I was in, surrounded by a foe, with 
such a handful of valuable men, not only as soldiers but as 
fellow citizens and members of society, and nothing to be ex- 
pected but the hatchet, spear and scalping-knife. The tremen- 
dous yells and whoops, all the fiends in the confines of the In- 
fernal Region, with one united cry, could not exceed it. Add 
to this the cries and petitions of the wounded around me, not 
to leave them, was beyond paralled or idea. My heart bleeds 
for the unfortunate wounded who fell into their hands. How- 
ever circumstances give me a little consolation. Mr. Roger 
Townsend, of Goshen, received a wound in his thigh, being ex- 

152 



ceedingly thirsty making an attempt to go to find some water 
was met by an Indian who very friendly took him by the hand 
and said he was his prisoner and would not hurt him.. A well 
directed ball from one of our men put the Indian into a dose, and 
Mr. Townsend ran back into the lines. I hope some little hu- 
manity may yet be found in the breasts of the Savages. 

I should be at the greatest loss was I to attempt to point out 
any officer or soldier that exceeded another in bravery during 
the time of the general action. 

Too much praise cannot be given to them for their atten- 
tion in receiving orders and alacrity in executing them. 

I have acquiesced with Col. Woodhull in ordering one-eighth 
of our regiments to Minisink as a temporary guard until your 
excellency's pleasure is known on the subject. 

The Indians were under the command of Brant, who was 
either killed or wounded in the action. They burnt Major 
Decker's house and barn ; Sam'l Davis's barn and mill ; Jacob 
Van Vleck's house and bam; Dan'l Van Okers bam (here was 
two Indians killed from a little fort around the house which 
was saved) ; Esquire Kuykindall's house and barn ; Simon West- 
fall's house and bam ; the Church ; Peter Kuykindall's house 
and bam ; Mertinus Decker's fort, house, bam and saw mills, 
and Nehemiah Patterson's saw mill; killed and scalped Jere- 
miah Vanoker, Daniel Cole, Ephraim Ferguson and one Tavern, 
and took with them several prisoners, mostly children, with a 
great number of horses, cattle and valuable plunder. Some 
of the cattle we rescued and returned to the owners. 

I hope your excellency will make allowances for the im- 
perfect stile, razures and blotts of this line, whilst I have the 
honor to subscribe myself, with the most perfect esteme, in 
haste. 

Your Excellency's Most Obedt. Sevt., 

"John Hathorn, Col." 



153 



CHAPTER X 

NARRATIVE OF THE CAPTIVITY BY THE 
INDIANS OF MRS. HARBISON. 

"On the return of my husband from Gen. St. Clah-'s 
defeat, and on his recovery from the wound he received 
in battle, he was made a spy and ordered to the woods 
on duty, about the 22d of March, 1792. The appoint- 
ment of spies to watch the movements of the Savages 
was so consonant with desires and interests of the in- 
habitants, that the frontier now resumed the appearance 
of quiet and confidence. Those who had for nearly a 
year been huddled together in the blockhouses were 
scattered to their own habitation and began the cultiva- 
tion of their farms. The spies saw nothing to alarm 
them or to induce them to apprehend danger, till the 
fatal morning of my captivity. They frequently came 
to our house to receive refreshments and to lodge. On 
the 15th of May, my husband, with Capt. Guthrie and 
other spies, came home about dark, and wanted supper, 
to procure which, I requested one of the spies to accom- 
pany me to the spring and springhouse, and Mr. Wm. 
Maxwell complied with my request. While he was at 
the spring and springhouse, we both distinctly heard a 
sound like the bleating of a lamb or fawn. This greatly 
alarmed us and induced us to make a hasty retreat into 
the house. Whether this was an Indian decoy or a w arn- 
ing of what I was to pass through, I am unable to 
determine. But from this time and circumstance, I be- 
came considerably alarmed and entreated my husband 
to remove me to some more secure place from Indian 

1-5.5 



cruelties. But Providence had designed that I should 
become a victim to their rage and that mercy should be 
made manifest in my deliverance. On the night of the 
21st of May, two of the spies, Mr. John Davis and Mr. 
Sutton, came to lodge at our house and on the morning 
of the 22d, at daybreak when the horn blew at the block- 
house, which was in sight of our house, and distant about 
two hundred yards, the two men got up and went out. 
I was also awake and saw the door open and thought 
when I was taken prisoner, that the scouts had left it 
open. I intended to rise immediately, but having a 
child at the breast and it being awakened, I lay with it at 
the breast to get it to sleep again and accidently fell 
asleep myself. The spies have since informed me that 
they returned to the house again and found that I was 
sleeping; that they softly fastened the door and went 
immediately to the blockhouse ; and those who examined 
the house after the scene was over, say both doors had 
the appearance of being broken open. The first thing I 
knew from falling asleep, was the Indians pulling me 
out of bed by my feet. I then looked up, and saw the 
house full of Indians, every one having his gun in his 
left hand and tomahawk in his right. Beholding the 
danger I was in, I immediately jumped to the floor on 
my feet, with the young child in my arms. I then took 
a petticoat to put on, having only the one in which I 
slept; but the Indians took it from me, and as many 
times as I attempted to put it on, they succeeded in tak- 
ing it from me, so that I had to go just as I had been in 
bed. While I was struggling with some of the Savages 
for clothing, others of them went and took the two chil- 
dren out of another bed and immediately took the two 
feather beds to the door and emptied them. The Savages 
immediately began their work of plunder and devasta- 
tion. What they were unable to carry with them, they 

156 



destroyed. While they were at their work I made to the 
door and succeeded in getting out. With one child in 
my arms and another by my side, but the other little 
boy was so much displeased by being so early disturbed 
in the morning, that he would not go to the door. When 
I got out I saw Mr. Wolf, one of the soldiers, going to 
the spring for water, and beheld two or three of the 
Savages attempting to get between him and the block- 
house ; but Mr. Wolf was unconscious of his danger for 
the Savages had not yet been discovered. I then gave a 
terrific scream, b}^ which means jNIr. Wolf discovered 
his danger and started to run for the blockhouse; seven 
or eight Indians fired at him, but the only injury he 
received was a bullet in the arm, which broke it. He 
succeeded in making his escape to the blockhouse. 

When I raised the alarm one of the Indians came up 
to me with his tomahawk as though about to take my 
life, a second came and placed his hand before my 
mouth and told me to hush, when a third came with a 
lifted tomahawk, and attempted to give me a blow; but 
the first that came raised his tomahawk and averted the 
blow, and claimed me as his squaw. The Commissary, 
with his waiter, slept in the storehouse near the block- 
house, and upon hearing the report of the guns, came 
to the door to see what was the matter, and beholding 
the danger he was in made his escape to the blockhouse, 
but not without being discovered by the Indians, several 
of whom fired at him, and one of the bullets went 
through liis handkerchief, which was tied about his head 
and took off some of his hair. The handkerchief, with 
several bullet holes in it, he afterwards gave to me. The 
waiter on coming to the door was met by the Indians, 
who fired upon him and he received two bullet holes 
through his body and fell dead by the door. The Sav- 
ages then set up one of their tremendous and terrifying 

157 



yells, and pushed forward and attempted to scalp the 
man they had killed, but they were prevented from exe- 
cuting their diabolical purpose by the heavy fire which 
was kept up through the portholes from the blockhouse. 
In this scene of horror and alarm I began to meditate 
an escape, and for that purpose I attempted to direct 
the attention of the Indians from me to the blockhouse, 
and thought if I could succeed in this, I would retreat 
to a subterranean rock with which I was acquainted, 
which was in the run near where we were. For this pur- 
pose I began to converse with some of those who were 
near me, respecting the strength of the blockhouse, the 
number of men in it, etc., and being informed that there 
were forty men there, and that they were excellent 
marksmen, they immediately came to the determination 
to retreat, and for this purpose they ran to those who 
were besieging the blockhouse and brought them away. 
They then began to fiog me with their Aviping 
sticks — a stick for wiping a gun — and to order 
me along. Thus what I intended as the means 
of mj^ escape was the means of accelerating my 
departure in the hands of the Savages. But it was no 
doubt ordered by a kind Providence for the preservation 
of the fort and the inhabitants in it; for when the Sav- 
ages gave up the atta<k and retreated, some of the men 
in the house had the last load of ammunition in their 
guns and theie was no possibility of procuring any 
more, for it was all fastened up in the storehouse, which 
was inaccessible. The Indians, when they had flogged 
me away along with them, took my oldest boy, a lad 
about five years old, along with them, for he was still at 
the door by my side. My middle boy, who was about 
three years of age, had by this time obtained a situation 
by the fire in the house and was crying bitterly to me not 
to go, and making bitter complaints of the depredations 
of the Savages. But these monsters were not willing 

158 



to let the child remain behind them; they took him by 
the hands to drag liim along with them, but he was so 
miwilling to go and made such a noise by crying that 
they took liim up by the feet and dashed his brains out 
against the threshold of the door. They then scalped 
and stabbed him and left him for dead. When I wit- 
nessed this inhuman butchery of my own child, I gave a 
most indiscribable and terrific scream, and felt a dim- 
ness come over my eyes next to blindness and my senses 
were nearly gone. The Savages then gave me a blow 
across the head and face and brought me to my sight and 
recollection again. During the whole of this agonizing 
scene I kept my infant in my arms. i\.s soon as their 
murder was effected they marched me along to the top 
of the bank about forty or sixty rods, and there they 
stopped and divided their plunder which they had taken 
from our house, and here I counted their number and 
found them to be thirty-two, two of whom were white 
men, painted as Indians. Several of the Indians could 
speak English well. I knew several of them well, hav- 
ing seen them go up and down the Allegheny river. I 
knew two of them to be from the Seneca tribe of In- 
dians and two of the Munsees; for they had called at 
the shop to get their guns repaired and I saw them there. 
We went from this place about forty rods, and they 
then caught my Uncle John Currie's horses, and two 
of them, into whose custody I was put, started with me 
on the horses. When they came to the bank that de- 
scends toward the Allegheny, the bank was so very 
steep and there appeared so much danger in descending 
it on horseback, that I threw myself off the horse in op- 
position to the will and command of the Savages. My 
horse descended without falling, but the one on which 
the Indian rode, who had my little boy, in descending, 
fell and rolled over repeatedly, and my little boy fell 

159 



back over the horse, but was not materially injured. 
He was taken up by one of the Indians, and we got to 
the bank of the river, where they had secreted some bark 
canoes under the rocks opposite an island in the river. 
They attempted in vain to make the horses take the 
river. After trying some time to effect this they left 
the horses beliind them and took us in one of the canoes 
to the point of the island and there they left the canoes. 

Here I beheld another hard scene, for as soon as we 
had landed, my little boy, who was still mourning and 
lamenting about his little brother, and who complained 
that he was injured by the fall in descending the bank, 
was murdered. One of the Indians ordered me along, 
probably, that I should not see the horrid deed about to 
be perpetrated. The other then took his tomahawk from 
liis side, and with this instrument of death, killed and 
scalped him. When I beheld this second scene of in- 
human butchery, I fell to the ground senseless, with my 
infant in my arms, it being under and its little hands in 
the hair of niy head. How long I remained in this state 
of insensibility, I know not. The first tiling I remember 
was my raising my head from the ground and my feeling 
myself exceedingly overcome with sleep. I cast my eyes 
around and saw the scalp of my dear little boy fresh 
bleeding from his head, in the hands of one of the Sav- 
ages, and sunk down to the earth again upon my infant 
child. The first thing I remember after witnessing this 
spectacle of woe, was the severe blows I was receiving 
from the hands of one of the Savages, though at that 
time I was unconscious of the injury I was sustaining. 
After a severe castigation, they assisted me in getting 
up, and supported me when I was up. 

Here I cannot help contemplating the peculiar inter- 
position of Divine Providence in my behalf. How easily 
they might have murdered me! What a wonder their 

160 



cruelty did not lead them to effect it! But, instead of 
this, the scalp of my boy was hid from my view, and in 
order to bring me to my senses, they took me back to 
the river and led me in knee deep ; this had its intended 
effect. But "the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." 
We now proceeded on our journey by crossing the island 
and coming to a shallow place where we could wade out 
and so arrived to the Indian side of the country. Here 
they pushed me in the river before them and had to 
conduct me through it. The water was up to my breast, 
but I suspended my child above the water and through 
the assistance of the Savages got safely out. From 
thence we rapidly proceeded forward and came to Big 
Buffalo ; here the stream was very rapid and the Indians 
had again to assist me. We then crossed Little Buffalo 
at the very place where Mr. Sarver's mill now stands 
and ascended the hill. 

I now felt weary of my life and had a full determina- 
tion t omake the Savages kill me, thinking death would 
be exceedingly welcome when compared with the 
fatigue, cruelties and miseries I had the prospect of en- 
during. 

To have my purpose effected I stood still, one of the 
Savages being before me and the other walking on be- 
hind me, and I took from my shoulder a large powder- 
horn they made me carry, in addition to my child, who 
was one year and four days old. I threw the horn on 
the ground, closed my eyes and expected every moment 
to feel the deadly tomahawk. But to my surprise, the 
Indians took it up, cursed me bitterly, and put it on my 
shoulder again. I took it off the second time and threw 
it on the ground and again closed my eyes as before with 
similar expectation, but to my great surprise they, with 
indignant and frightful countenances, came and placed 
it on again. I took it off the third time and was de- 

161 



termined to effect it; and therefore threw it as far as I 
could on the rocks. One Savage immediately went after 
it, while the other one who claimed me as his squaw 
came up to me and said, "Well done; I did right, and 
was a good squaw and that the other was a lazy dog; 
he might carrj'- it himself." I cannot now sufficiently 
admire the indulgent care of a gracious God, that at this 
moment preserved me amidst so many temptations from 
the tomahawk and scalping knife. 

The Savages now changed their positions, the one 
who claimed me as his squaw going behind. This move- 
ment I believe was to prevent the other from doing me 
harm, and we came to the Salt Lick, about two miles 
above Butler, where was an Indian camp, arriving a lit- 
tle before dark, and having no refreshments during the 
day. 

The camp was made of stakes driven in the ground, 
sloping and covered with chestnut bark and appeared to 
be long enough to accommodate fifty men. The camp 
had paths about it leading in different directions. 

That night they took me about three hundred yards 
from the camp, up a run into a large dark bottom, 
where they cut the brush in a thicket and placed a 
blanket on the ground and permitted me to sit down 
with my child. 

They then pinioned my arms back only with a little 
liberty, so that it was with difficulty that I managed my 
child. Here in this dreary situation, without fire or re- 
freshment, having my arms pinioned and my child to 
take care of with a Savage on each side of me, who had 
killed two of my dear children that day, I had to pass 
the first night of my captivity. 

Ye mothers, who have never lost a child by an in- 
human Savage may nevertheless think a little (though it 
be a Kttle) what I endured and hence sympathize with 

162 



me a little as one of the pioneers of civilization. Not- 
withstanding mj" situation and my determination to es- 
cape if possible, I fell asleep and dreamed of my escape 
and safe arrival in Pittsburgh and several other things 
wliich afterwards proved to be true in that place. 

The night passed away without giving me any chance 
of escape, for the Savages kept watch all night without 
sleep. In the morning one of them left us to watch the 
trail we had come over, to see if any were pursuing us. 
During the absence of the one Indian, the other who 
was the murderer of my last boy, took from his bosom 
his scalp and prepared a hoop and stretched the scalp 
upon it. This sight harrowed up my soul and I medi- 
tated revenge! While he was in the very act I at- 
tempted to secure the tomahawk which hung from his 
belt and imagined myself giving him the fatal blow, 
when, alas! I was detected. He felt me at the handle 
and turned round and cursed me and told me I was a 
Yankee. He then faced me to prevent my doing so 
again. My excuse for handling his tomahawk was that 
my child wanted to play with the handle of it. His 
looks were something terrific in the extreme, and these 
I apprehended were only an index of his heart. But 
God was my preserver. 

The Savage who had gone, returned about noon, and 
had discovered no pursuers. Then the other Savage 
went on the same errand. My guard now began boast- 
ing of their achievements at the defeat of General St. 
Clair and examining the plunder of our house, found 
my pocketbook, which contained ten dollars in silver and 
a half guinea in gold. During this day they gave me a 
piece of dry venison about the size of an egg, as they did 
the day we were marching, for me and the child; but 
owing to the blows I had received on my jaws I was un- 
able to eat a bit of it. I broke it up and gave it to the 
child. 

163 



The next evening, JNIonday 23, on the return of the 
other Savage they removed me to another place in the 
same valley and secured me as on the previous night, 
and on the morning of the 24th a flock of birds and 
robins hovered over us and sung and said, at least in my 
imagination, that I was to get up and go off. At day- 
break one guard again went off to watch the trail, and 
the one left to guard me appeared to be sleeping. When 
I perceived this I lay still and began to snore and he 
soon fell fast asleep. Then I concluded it was time to 
escape. I found it impossible to injure him, for my 
child would need to be put down and might give a cry, 
so I contented myself with taking from a pillow-case of 
plunder from our house a short gown, handkerchief and 
child's frock, and so made my escape ; the sun being then 
about half an hour high. 

I took a direction from home at first, being guided 
by the birds before mentioned, and to deceive the In- 
dians, then took over the hill until I struck a creek 
which I followed down stream. I soon discovered by 
the sun that I was on the wrong course, and sat down 
until the evening star made its appearance, and having 
marked out the course I should take next morning, I 
collected a bed of leaves. I laid me down and slept, 
though my feet being full of thorns were very painful 
and I still had had nothing to eat for myself and child. 
The next morning, JNIay 25, about daybreak I was 
aroused by the same flock of birds before mentioned, 
which still continued with me, and having them to guide 
me through the wilderness. As soon as sufficiently light 
to find my way I started for the fourth day's trial of 
hunger and fatigue. I made my way towards the Alle- 
gheny River, and in the evening about the going down 
of the sun, a moderate rain set in. 

I could not collect a sufficient bed of leaves without 

164 



setting m}^ little boy on the ground; but as soon as I 
put him out of my arms he began to cry ; and I put him 
to the breast immediately and he became quiet. I then 
stood and listened, and distinctly heard the footsteps of 
a man coming after me in the direction I had come! 
Alarmed at my perilous situation and seeking a place 
of safety, I providentially discovered a large tree which 
had fallen, into the tops of which I crept, with my child 
in my arms and hid myself under the limbs. 

The darkness greatly assisted me and prevented de- 
tection. The footsteps I heard were those of a Savage. 
He heard the cry of the child and came to the very 
spot where the child cried, and there he halted, put down 
his gun, and was so near that I heard the wiping stick 
strike against his gun distinctly. INIy getting in under 
the tree and sheltering myself and pressing my boy to 
my bosom got him warm and he most providentially fell 
asleep. All was quiet and the Savage was listening for 
the cry he had heard before. My own heart was the 
only thing I feared for that beat so loud that I was ap- 
prehensive it would betray me; but after the Savage had 
stood and listened with the stillness of death for two 
hours, the sound of a bell and a cry like that of a night- 
owl, signals from his Savage companions, induced him 
to answer, and after he had given a most horrid yell, 
which was calculated to harrow up my soul, he went off 
to join them. Lest they should conclude upon a second 
search I deemed it best to move from my place of con- 
cealment that night, so I threw my coat about my child 
and placed the end between my teeth and with my one 
arm and teeth I carried the child and with the other arm 
groped my way between the trees for a mile or two, and 
there sat down at the root of a tree till the morning. 
The night was cold and wet, and thus terminated the 
fourth day of difficulties, trials, hunger and danger. 

165 



Saturday, May 26, wet and exhausted, hungry and 
wretched, I started as soon as I could see, and on that 
morning struck the waters of Pine Creek, and having 
crossed them discovered a path on the opposite bank 
with moccasin tracks in it, evidently indicating that In- 
dians were just ahead of me. This alarmed me, but I 
followed on until I came to a hunter's camp where the 
two men whose tracks I had been following had kindled 
a fire and breakfasted, leaving the fire burning. 

I here became more alarmed and determined to leave 
the path. I then crossed a ridge towards Squaw Run 
and came upon another trail or path. I was here medi- 
tating what to do; and while I was thus musing I saw 
three deer coming towards me at full speed; they turned 
to look at their pursuers ; I looked too with all attention 
and saw the flash of a gun and heard the report as soon 
as the gun was fired. I saw some dogs dart after them, 
and began to look about for a shelter, and made for a 
large log and hid myself behind it; but most provi- 
dentially I did not go clear to the log; had I done so 
I might have lost my life by the bites of rattlesnakes; 
for as I put my hand on the ground to raise myself, 
that I might see what had become of the hunters and 
who they were, I saw a large heap of rattlesnakes and 
the top one was very large and coiled up very near my 
face and ready to bite me. This compelled me to leave 
this situation, let the consequences be what they might. 

I here again left my course and came to the head- 
waters of Squaw Run, which I followed the remainder 
of the day. During the day it rained and I suffered 
much from both cold and hunger. INIy jaws were so far 
recovered that I was enabled to pluck some grapevine 
branches and chew them for a little sustenance. At 
night, within a mile of the Allegheny River and in a 
tremendous rainstorm, I took up my fifth night's lodg- 

166 



ing at the foot of a tree ; and in order to shelter my in- 
fant, I placed him in my lap and leaned my head against 
the tree. 

On the morning of the 6th, which was the Sabbath, I 
was so nearly exhausted that it was with great difficulty 
I was enabled to get on my feet, and my progress was 
amazinglj^ slow and discouraging. In this almost help- 
less condition I had not gone far before I came to a path 
where some cattle had been traveling; I immediately 
took the path, knowing it would lead me to the abode of 
some white people, and by traveling it about a mile I 
came to an uninhabited cabin, and though I was on a 
river bottom, yet I knew not where I was nor yet on 
what river bank I had come. Here I was seized with a 
feeling of despair, and drawing near the cabin I con- 
cluded I would enter and lie down and die; as death 
would be an angel of mercy to me. 

Just then I heard a cow-bell, which imparted a gleam 
of hope to my desponding mind. I followed the sound 
of the bell till I came opposite to the fort at the Six- 
Mile Island. 

I here saw three men on the opposite side of the river. 
This sight revived my spirits. I called to them. They 
seemed unwilling to risk the danger of coming after me 
and requested to know who I was. I tried to make 
them understand my captivity, escapes, etc., but they re- 
quested me to come up the bank of the river for a while 
that they might see if the Indians were making a decoy 
of me or not ; but I replied that I could not walk. 

Then one of them, James Closier, got into a canoe to 
fetch me over, and the other two stood on the bank with 
their rifles cocked, ready to fire on the Indians, pro- 
vided they were using me as a decoy. When Mr. 
Closier came near shore and saw my haggard and de- 
jected situation he exclaimed, "Who in the name of 

167 



God are you?" He was one of my nearest neighbors, 
yet six days' hardship had so altered my appearance 
that he did not know my voice or countenance. 

When we landed, the people came running from the 
fort, and some assisted me, others took the child, and 
now that I felt I was safe I found myself unable to move 
or assist mj^self in any degree; whereupon the people 
carried me to the house of IVIr. Cortus. 

Here for the first time I burst into tears and my feel- 
ing returned with all their poignancy. During my 
severest and most heart-rending trial I could not shed 
a tear before the Indians. Had I done so, it might have 
cost me my life, for the Indians despise tears. 

When they took me into the house I fainted. Some 
of the people attempted to restore me and others by 
their kindness would in all probability have killed me, 
had not Major ]M'Culley arrived and ordered them to 
take me out in the air, and that I should not have any- 
thing but the whey of buttermilk for a time, and that in 
very small quantities. 

After I revived the thorns were taken from my feet 
in great numbers, some of them having gone through 
and coming out on the top. The news soon spread of 
my arrival and my husband came to see me the same 
evening. I gave an account of the murder of my child 
on the island, and on Wednesday morning a scout went 
out, according to my directions, and found the body 
and buried it after being murdered nine days. 



168 



CHAPTER XI 



Poems by the Author. 



THE TRIUMVIATE. 

The ship of state with her shackled freight, 

Swept by a furious gale, 
Was drifting away from the harbor bay 

With shattered mast and sail. 

The Pilot Chief from the billowy reef. 

The cargo sought to save. 
But millions of souls in bondage shoals 

Seemed doomed to a watery grave. 

But the Pilot's zeal as he turned the wheel 

From the danger coast away 
Gave manly grip to thrust the ship 

In Emancipation bay. 

There the fetters broke and the galling yoke 

Was buried beneath the sea. 
Now naught remains of the slave in chains 

For the bondman is set free. 

But the Pilot, great, was doomed to fate 

For the manacles he had riven 
But be assured that he "endured," 

And his pass-port leads to heaven. 

May an angel band from the freedman land 
E'en from the great white throne 

With songs, complete and music sweet 
Their gratitude make known. 
169 



Bj gifts of love, borne from above 

To the Springfield of the West, 
To bedeck the tomb with Eden's bloom 

Where the martyred Lincoln rests. 

And of all the brave who fought to save 

The Union from her woes 
'Twas Garfield's main that led the train 

And grappled with her foes. 

From halls of fame, he too became 

The nation's honored chief, 
But crime combined with jealous mind. 

To bring him down to grief. 

'Mid hopes and fears and falling tears 

We watched his life depart, 
But Garfield's name — untarnished name, 

Is graven on every heart. 

Let those who prize the sacrifice 

Made bj these hero towers 
With the soldier dead, who fought and bled 

Bedeck their graves with flowers. 

Fair Lake View Side great Cleveland's pride 

Contains a hallowed spot 
Where the humblest swain may strength regain 

And courage to bear his lot. 

McKinley too, the tried and true 

Stood foremost in the fray 
Where North and South at the cannon mouth 

Swept valiant lives away. 

But, o'er it all, there hung a pall. 

And as he rose to fame 
His artful foe with a miscle blow 

Drove anarchy to shame. 



170 



By thrust and gloat at the nation's throat 

A blow at the nation's head 
That riot and rant might lead the chant 

And the requiem of the dead. 

The last sad right, by hearts, contrite 

Tender hands have done 
An eye Divine guards the sacred shrine 

Of the nation's martyred son. 

Such deeds, maligned, oft bring to mind 

William the Silent's fall. 
We see at a glance the "Terrors of France," 

And "the unkindest cut of all." 

May the majestrate triumviate 

Statesman, soldier, friend 
Reign in each heart, to zeal impart 

And God our cause defend. 

THE MAINE IN THE HARBOR OF DEATH. 

By Horace Edgar Twichell. 

The "Maine," the union's pride, the nation's boast, 

Fair daughter named in honor of the Pine Tree State, 

Lay peacefully at anchor off a foreign coast. 
Dreaming not of an untimely fate. 

Yea, verily she sought a calm repose. 

She had offended no one, she suspected none, 

Yet e'en the elements appeared to be her foes, 
As the waves came up and smote her one by one. 

Here earth and sea had found a thousand graves, 
Where buoyant she lay on ocean's breast. 

Made crimson by the blood of Cuban slaves. 
And many martyrs of that land oppressed. 

The night had draped her stately masts in mourning, 
Beneath the old flag that she proudly bore; 
171 



As gems, the bosom of the deep adorning, 

Were the lights reflected from the sky and shore. 

The sentinel had finished his inspecting tour, 
The "all is well" had echoed o'er the deep ; 

Thus making all on board feel more secure, 
And many of the crew retired to sleep. 

While some in youthful dreams are home again. 
Surrounded by their friends and parents dear. 

Others struggle in the throes of death with men. 
Still others shed the penitential tear. 

Then suddenly there comes a lightning flash, 
A peal of thunder shakes the sea and shore. 

Then overhead a rumbling, stunning crash, 
And scores of human beings are no more. 

The flames illuminate the earth and sky, 
And yet no post is deserted by the crew ; 

The officers the very elements defy, 

The nation's pride should be her tried and true. 

The boats are manned and managed with a skill. 
Which highly honors any naval fleet. 

The wounded ones are rescued, and the ill 
From the water and most dangerous retreat. 

The noble ship is in the throes of death. 

She disappears beneath the angry wave. 
And who can know if accident or wrath 

Has buried her in this untimely grave. 

The direful news is flashed throughout the land. 
And many forms are prostrate, some undone ; 

The queries raise, "Was it a Spanish hand 
That feign would have a bloody war begun. 

We'll trust the pilot of the nation's craft. 

He's conned the nation's charts of war and peace; 
172 



Invoiced the nation's cargo fore and aft ; 

So should the nation's confidence in him increase. 

Our sacred dead the harbor death have passed, 
Into the haven, peace, into eternal rest, 

Where he who would be first shall be the last. 
And he who would be humblest the best. 



THE LONELY SOLDIER'S GRAVE. 

(Written for The Call.) 

What are those muffled tones which meet mine ear.'' 

Can this be martial music drawing near? 

Look yonder, 'tis an army almost here. 

See how the muskets glitter in the light ! 

And now they quickly turn and march to right. 

As if there were some lurking foe in sight. 

Hark! what report is that from yonder tree.'* 

The smoke is dimly rising — can you see.'' 

It surely is some unseen enemy. 

But from the ranks a soldier, staggering, falls. 

"Halt !" the stern commander loudly calls, 

And all stand firm as great partition walls. 

"Who's that has fallen.'"' comes the stern demand, 
"Poor Joe is dead, slain by yon rebel band." 
"Well, forward march, the army must not stand," 
"But, captain, he's my brother, may I staj^," 
Until he's buried.'"' "If you wish you may," 
"This way lads, with shovels, no delay." 

The brother lingers with his sacred dead. 
And o'er the prostrate form he bows his head. 
And breathes the silent prayer his mother said. 
Then from the lifeless form upon the sand 
He takes the ring from off the pulseless hand. 
And thus obeys his mother's last command. 

173 



He also clips a lock of flaxen hair, 

The only other token he can bear 

To soothe his mother in her deep despair, 

Just then the sappers hurried to the place, 

And having turned the dead upon his face 

Heaped high the verdant sod and left in haste. 

The maiden calmly watched the new made mound. 

As days and weeks and months and years rolled round, 

And looked upon the spot as hallowed ground. 

"My brother may yet fall upon the plain. 

And one I love as dear may yet be slain." 

Were reveries that filled her heart and brain. 

So, from the remnant waste, a flag she drew; 
The Stars and Stripes, disowned by parents too, 
And placed it on the grave thus made anew. 
When questioned as to why she'd thus behave 
Her heart was in the answer that she gave, 
"He rests beneath the flag, he died to save." 

In after years when North and South were one. 
United in the flag of Washington ; 
She listened to great feats in battle done. 
For one to whom she ever had been true. 
Whoever had her happiness in view, 
Returned, clad in a suit of faded blue. 

He said that when in battle's darkest hour 
He saw the old flag waving from a tower, 
And felt a strange conviction from its power; 
He vowed if God would save him one day more 
That same old flag our brave forefathers bore, 
He'd hail from land to land and shore to shore. 

Then too, his comrade made a solemn vow. 
That being one at first they should be now, 
And clear the death dew from each other's brow ; 
Then, in mingled sadness, joy and pride, 
He told her how her brother bravely died 
While fighting for the Union by his side. 

174 



He also told how congress named a day, 
When balmy breezes fan the flowers of May 
That all should some sweet floral tribute pay; 
For every soldier's grave should be a shrine 
Where loving hands may wreaths of flowers entwine 
And light eternal on our banner shine. 

Then this thought brightened up her darkest gloom, 
That, on this day, when sweetest flowers bloom, 
Some loving hand might deck her brother's tomb. 
Then, thinking on the grave made far away. 
They both bethought how near a soldier lay. 
Whose blood was spilled and mingled with the clay. 

Then both resolved to keep this day of ours 

By twining verdant wreaths of fragrant flowers. 

Which they had plucked from nature's sweetest bowers. 

And when the sun descended in the West, 

Leaving silent nature to her rest. 

This lonely soldier's grave lay flower dressed. 

For hands that grappled with a stealthy foe. 
And tender fingers, wrung in deepest woe. 
United here, to gifts of love bestow. 
Thus, when the stars of light shone out serene 
Upon this lonely mound of verdant green, 
The stars of peace and freedom waved between, 

Horace Edgar Twicheli* 



THE MOHAWK MAIDEN.* 

By Horace Edgar Twichell. 

There lived a Mohawk maiden 
Whose life with toil was laden. 

Through the forest, on the plain ; 
Very drear was her surrounding, 



*Mary (or MoUie) Brant, sister of Joseph Brant. 

175 



With the wild beasts ever abounding, 
Ever chasing in her train. 

How her long, dark, waving tresses, 
Gained a score of fond caresses. 

From the pale-face, from the brave. 
As she wrought among the maizes 
With no bard to chant her praises ; 

She was warrior's drudge and slave. 

Fairy young Mohawk maiden, 
The wigwam that she staid in 

Could not hold so great a charm; 
For her sparkling eyes so tender 
Gained her many a defender, 

Who would shield the maid from harm. 

Her sweet voice mocked the fountains 
As it echoed through the mountains. 

When she trod the hunter's trail; 
With her trusted bow and quiver. 
On the marshes of the river, 

Her shaft would never fail. 

All unlike her cruel brother,t 
Who cared for self — none other, — 

Deeds of kindness were her pride ; 
She was ever tender hearted. 
And full oft the tear-drop started 

When the scalping-knife she spied. 

And she worshiped the Great Spirit 
In a way that he might hear it. 

When the Sun had gone to rest; 
Ever seeking his protection 
Throughout ever insurrection. 

As the safest and the best. 



t Joseph Brant, the famous Mohawk chieftain, who commanded at the bat- 
tles of Minisink, Wyoming and others during the Revolution. 

176 



One day the Mohawk maiden 
The corn-field long delayed in, 

For Sir Williamt drew aside ; 
And although he felt above her, 
Yet he claimed that he could love her 

And take her as his bride. 

Thus he lured her to his palace ; H 
But her heart could hold no malice. 

So guileless was her life ; 
And she even quite forgave him, 
And from censure tried to save him 

When he chose another wife. 

For she felt the tie that bound her — 
As her children played around her, — 

Bound her firmly to their sire: , 

For she saw the one offended. 
In the pale-face meekly blended. 

Free from envy and fi'om ire. 

Thus the Mohawk maiden, 
Whose life with toil was laden, 

By Sir William kept her vow ; 
She soothed his dying pillow, 
And beneath the weeping willow, 

Cleared the death-dew from his brow. 

TEACHER'S COLUMN. 

Rulers in Rhyme. 
By Horace Edgar Twichell. 

The United Colonies, England's descendants. 

Made a great struggle for their Independence ; 

Like a swarm from the hive, they preferred separation 

That they might become a great, prosperous nation. 

And in a defense against English oppressions 

They took up their arms against Britains and Hessians. 

Now, in those dark days, when our forefathers faltered, 

Washington's courage was firm and unaltered. 



|Sir William Johnston the celebrated Indian agent and general in the 
Mohawk Valley during the French and Indian troubles prior to the Revo- 
lution. 

^A stone house still standing at Johnstown, Fulton Co., N. Y, 

177 



1775. 

He led in the war of the Great Revolution 

Which threw off the yoke and brought just restitution. 

After putting their plans in complete execution 

The people adopted a firm Constitution — 

A fixed set of laws, granting rights and protection. 

To every son of Caucasian complexion. 

Then for a ruler to govern the nation, 

All turned to this man of such great reputation. 

And in the Frail Bark of scant mooring and sail, 

Washington braved the most furious gale. 

1789. 

To meet all emergencies, wisely, he planned, 
And thus gained the confidence of all the land ; 
For great was the wreck of the war's devastation, 
But wisely he met every just obligation. 
And after eight years of great turmoil and care 
He passed, to John Adams, the President's chair. 

1797 

Adams declared that a rigid advance 

Of army and navy must settle with France : 

To teach foreign Crowns who for tribute contend, 

That we give not a cent but with millions defend. 

And war had already begun on the seas, 

When a French Revolution all malice appeased. 

1801. 

Next Jeffferson chants the new century ditty. 
And makes the great Washington capital city; 
This far-seeing President took a great notion 
To make his possessions extend to the ocean. 
He paid fifteen millions to France for her claim 
On Louisiana and lands by that name. 
Just then came a furious war declaration 
From Tripoli, now in extreme agitation 
Because j^early tribute as paid heretofore 
To ransom our slaves, was not paid any more ; 
So he sent an armada without hesitation 
To bombard that city and quell their vexation. 

178 



1809. 

Madison came as the fourth into power, 

And threatened all pirates and knaves to devour. 

He chose eighteen hundred and twelve as the year 

To lead Mother England around by the ear; 

But great was the struggle with loud sounding lashes — 

The capitol lying in ruins and ashes. 

And both sides were satisfied now to relent, 

For a treaty of peace had been signed at Ghent, — 

And ! how they longed for a news-sending means 

To avert the great battle around New Orleans. 

NUMBER TWO. 

Fifth with his doctrine (1817) Monroe made decree 
That conquests of Europe must not cross the sea, 
And the states may e'en deem it an unfriendly act 
If any American Crown is attacked. 
And when Missouri applied for admission. 
Some slavery advocates waged opposition. 
And the man who would rather be right than preside, 
By his Comprise bill set the issue aside. 
'Twas during this President's peaceable reign 
Florida to us was ceded from Spain. 
Next, "Old Man's Eloquent" tries for that place. 
And with three other candidates joins in the race; 
And (1825) John Quincy Adams the best learned of men, 
By a vote of the House bears that name in again ; 
But the son, like the father, met great opposition 
Arising in Congress from false superstition. 
'Twas during this epoch that steam locomotion 
Was fully completed on this side the ocean. 
And the West with the East brought in closer relation 
By Erie Canal and the Lake navigation. 
And now when the wave mounts the tide of protection, 
Jackson's (1829) great victory proves its rejection. 
By warring the National Currency Bank, 
He fits in his platform a new specie plank; 
And he set the example of office rotation, 
And emptied the banks for a mere speculation. 
Then the Chief Black Hawk, that cunning old Fox, 

179 



Fell into his clutches and in a bad box, 

For his tribe and their allies were killed on the plains, 

And he, put in prison and fettered in chains. 

And we enter the era of "Try, try again," 

When Martin Van Buren (1837) tries five times to win; 

But the panic which gathered with his predecessor 

Now burst upon him as the vilest aggressor; 

Thus millions were lost in stagnation of trade 

And even the Government's debts were unpaid. 

Next comes the hero of Tippecanoe ; 

But Harrison (1841) dies and lets Tyler in too. 

Tyler continues to finish his term. 

By making political partisans squirm; 

And seeing that Texas stood out in the cold 

He gave her a welcome to Uncle Sam's fold. 

Then hostile invasion from Mexican coast 

Comes into collision with Polk (1845) at his post; 

For he sends two great armies to meet the intruders, 

And check the advance of all border marauders. 

Quite soon they are glad to be friend and not foe. 

And cede California and New Mexico, 

With all that vast region where wealth is untold 

In the endless production of silver and gold. 

Twelfth Zachery Taylor (1849) had won in the fray, 

And donned "Rough and Ready" as his soubriquet 

[su-bre-ka] ; 
But turmoil and battle, exposure and strife. 
Left only four months for this President's life; 
And FiLMORE (1849) let in by the great Constitution, 
Carried his plans into swift execution ; 
Encouraging commerce upon the high seas. 
And opening trade with remote Japanese. 
Then when Cuba's champion turned "filibuster," 
He longed for that island, but still would not trust her. 
Because it would add to the slavery sin, 
And Spain would not sanction our letting her in. 
Next Pierce (1853) floors the Compromise Bill in convention, 
And Kansas becomes the great bone of contention ; 
For pro-slave and anti-slave furnished a theme 
For mob-law and violence in the extreme. 
And while great advancements were made in our trade, 

180 



Yet many great breaches in union were made, 

And as clouds gather o'er us and night circles round, 

Buchanan (1857) still leaves us in darkness profound; 

Permitting the sisters Carolina and neighbors 

To make an ado about where "Honest Abe" is. 

And strut from the sisterhood haughty and proud. 

Because cruel customs would not be allowed. 

But in the great hour of need and demand 

Comes Abraham Lincoln (1861) the Prince of the land, 

Proclaiming the Union must not be disbanded. 

Or blood-shed would settle all schemes underhanded ; 

And that the bond broken be timely united. 

Or slaves should be freed and their wrongs should be righted. 

Then a clan of the sisterhood, seven in number, 

Made a great building of very poor lumber, 

And named as their leader their greatest and wisest, 

To rule over all and prepare for the crisis. 

But when their brave soldiers, sent out in great armies, 

Get slaughtered and beaten they see where the harm is ; 

And after a conflict of four bloody years, 

They lay down their arms in privation and tears, 

And seek for a place in the old Constitution 

Adopted just after the great Revolution ; 

But not till a Brutus in artful disgrace, 

Made our loved Lincoln's life a complete sacrifice. 

But we boast of a star in the world's architrave 

Which gleamed o'er the manger of slavery's grave. 

PART FOUR 

Thus Johnson (1865) came in as a great man's successor. 
To deal with the South and each other transgressor; 
He vetoed all bills for freedmen influxion, 
And claimed a sole right in the State's reconstruction, 
But partial, commenced he to speak it and pen it, 
Till great opposition arose in the Senate, 
And urging a friend in another man's place 
He brings on impeachment and public disgrace; 
But lacking a vote to establish his crime, 
The House reinstates him to finish his time. 
'Twas during this riotous administration, 
Alaska was bought and annexed to the nation, 

181 



And the people resolved better seed to implant. 

By naming the hero Ulysses S; Grant (1869). 

This victor of Shilo and Richmond's great fall, 

Who was summoned to war by his Country's loud call, 

Would fight on this line 'till the Summer was ended. 

And every rent in our banner was mended. 

Undaunted he stood at the fierce cannon's mouth, 

But now stands the friend of the North and the South, 

Unfurling the flag o'er the bondmen set free 

He advocates peace on the land and the sea. 

And during his prosperous administration 

The United States took a year's recreation ; 

Inviting all nations to come and take part, 

And bring all inventions of science and art 

To show the progression a century brings 

Where the people are freed from the thraldom of kings. 

Next, two great men, after party contention, 

Claim their election in college convention ; 

And after a session of censure and grudges 

The count is passed on to Electoral Judges 

Who after a council and some retrospection, 

Justify Hayes (1877) and proclaim his election. 

He reimburses both debtors and claimants 

By rapid resumption of hard-money payments ; 

And puts gold and paper again on a par — 

Something unknown since the outbreak of war. 

Next came England's fishing adjudication. 

And treaties with China 't control immigration. 

Thus peace and prosperity join hand to hand 

To lighten the burdens of all in the land. 



PART FIVE 



'Twas during this term of South conciliation 
That Garfield (1881) arose to the head of the nation. 
But ladders of fame are not always the strongest ; 
Neither does National honor stand longest; 
For one who is nearest the summit of fame 
Is often a target for jealous disdain. 
The voice of the people confirmed his election. 
And thus they set on him a greater affection. 
Little they dreamed that a fiend stood among them, 
Piercing their hearts as he cruelly wrung them, 

182 



By smiting their chief in an unguarded station ; 
A vile deed of anarchy done for sensation. 
Thus after some months of the greatest depression, 
This languishing ruler gave way to succession, 
And Arthur (1881) the first constitutional heir. 
Sits for a time in the vacated chair, 
And quietly acts in an administration 
Which opened with such a forlorn situation. 
Next Cleveland (1885) elected 'mid stern opposition. 
Becomes the incumbent of this great position, 
And reigns till the contest of stem eighty-eight, 
When Harrison (1889) wins and becomes magistrate. 
This grandson of one who was President too 
And was called the brave hero of Tippecanoe 
Has solved the great problem of right and protection, 
And given the people a cause for reflection : 
For Cleveland (1893) borne in on the tide of "Free Trade," 
Places our finances low in the shade, 
And strongly reminds us of days when our "Van," 
Contending with poverty wro'ght like a man 
To save this fair land from a bankrupt condition. 
And grant all he could on the poor man's petition ; 
McKinley the hero of tariff reform, 
Forwarded aid to the Cuban alarm. 
To deliver the slave from the thraldom of Spain, 
And drive from America, fetter and chain. 
Thus by the aid of proficient marines 
He fostered, a time, the remote Philippines. 
But a vile anarchist bandaged with sin. 
Smote him and let his Vice-President in. 
Roosevelt, the hero of San Juan height 
The Rough Rider Colonel who led in the fight 
Acts for a time against Chinese influxion 
And lends Cuba aid in her State reconstruction. 
He next turns attention to ship navigation. 
And enters a great ship-canal stipulation ; 
To build o'er the isthmus from ocean to ocean, 
A water-way shortening ship locomotion. 
And passes unfinished to Taft, his successor. 
This world-renowned enterprise, greater or lesser. 
Him we leave with you to end of his term 
To the feat and the finish we bid you stand firm. 

183 



BRIC-A-BRAC. 

THE OLD REPLACED BY THE NEW. 

Written for the Albany Journal. 

Years have elapsed since I stood on this spot, 

My dear native city I greet thee again ; 
Far were my wanderings, drear was my lot, 

And many my conflicts with ravenous men. 
The faces I see are so strange and so cold. 

And I recognize patrons and places so few. 
The hearth of my childhood, so changed, has been sold 

And the old is replaced with the new. 

The old city hall has been razed to the ground ; 

Its daily-doled justice is fresh in my mind; 
The hoary-haired judges can nowhere be found; 

They have gone, leaving honors behind. 
And lo ! where it stood rises belfry and tower 

And great giant walls with an outline so true, 
A structure of beauty, as well as of power, 

The old is replaced by the new. 

The Calvary, too, is so strange in its place, 

The plain, ancient fabric no longer appears ; 
But a temple of beauty, as well as of grace, 

Is adorned with the penitent's tears. 
The fathers and mothers are laid in the tomb, 

And others, posterity, sit In their pew ; 
The youth nearing manhood, the maiden in bloom, 

The old is replaced by the new. 

The Capitol too, where our forefathers came. 

Excelsior tribute and service to bring ; 
Where many great Statesmen of honor and fame, 

Made halls with their eloquence ring; 
Has vanished away : we behold it no more. 

But towering high interposing our view, 
A structure augments our American lore; 

The old is replaced by the new. 
184 



The old Alma Mater will never again, 

Send cordial greetings to welcome us home ; 
But let us express with our tongue and our pen, 

Obhgation to her though afar we may roam. 
For the new Normal Home, may we gratitude feel, 

We extend it to whom it's so amply due ; 
To the State and the men who with fervor and zeal. 

Have replaced here the old with the new. 

And thus as the years of our life pass away, 

This change is before us in nature and art ; 
Our time here appears like a brief passing day. 

Here man with his friends and his treasures must part, 
Then how fitting it is, that while here we abide ! 

We our minds with eternity's treasures imbue. 
And have a dear Saviour to serve as a guide, 

When the old scenes are changed for the new. 

Horace E. Twicheli., 
State Normal Scliool, Albany; Class '83. 



REMINISCENCES. 

Written for The Journal. ' 

[Prompted at a New England supper, many Revolutionary 
patriots being represented in ancient costume.] 

How pleasant are our visions in the sunshine of to-day 
Of many an ancient patriot that long has passed away— 
Whose nigged frame and sturdy arm, defying wintry blast, 
Felled the tree and built the home in that dim, distant past. 

We forget our pilgrim parents, with privation at their door. 
And ferocious beasts around them on the wild Atlantic shore ; 
How they watched the wary savage, with their firelocks near 

at hand ! 
And, armed at work and worship, they tilled the sterile land. 

We class the spinning wheel and loom as toys of days agone, 
Viewed in this nineteenth century, this great invention-dawn, 

185 



We boast of our republic and the progress we have made, 
Forgetting that our ancestors the firm foundation laid. 

We dote on reciprocity, based on benignant laws, 
Forgetting our forefathers, their struggles and their cause; 
Forgetting that their trials, perplexities and zeal 
Constructed this great "ship of state" and left us at the wheel. 

Those patriotic ancestors, with furrowed brows of care, 
In garb of homespun woollen and hearts bound firm in prayer, 
Proclaimed in solemn Congress to Europe's mighty powers, 
"We pledge our lives and honor to this noble land of ours." 

Then should we not in gratitude and patriotic pride, 
Recount their deeds and principles and take them as our guide? 
Yes, they should shine before us, like star of northern night, 
Which guides the storm-tossed mariner, and sets his course 
aright. 

May we have our motives pure when at the polls we stand. 
And pledge to law and liberty, we'll vote with heart and hand. 
Then shall our emblematic flag, without a blot or stain. 
Float over freedom's hills and vales, from Washington to Maine. 

Horace Edgar Twichell. 



PLEASURES AND PERILS OF THE DELAWARE. 

Down from the mountain side far away 

The Delaware rolls with its dashing spray. 

Until it has gathered in brooklet and rill, 

From ever forest and valley and hill, 

Its waters have played with its pebbles and sand 

Till the hills and the mountains are worn from its strand. 

And the ocean-bound waters from meadow and lea 

Pursue, through the ages, their course to the sea. 

II. 

Winding along its meandering way, 
It has borne on its bosom the freight of its day. 
Till the slope of its hillsides for miles from its plain 

186 



Are picturesque landscapes of bright waving grain ; 

Long have the finny schools gathered in play 

And sped, through its length, on their venturesome way, 

That in the head-waters remote from the foe, 

Their tender young offspring might flourish and grow. 

III. 

When the sun from its zenith sends down its warm ray. 
And the forests are sweet with the odors of May ; 
When the bloom and the beauty of garden and glen 
Cheer the heart and the soul of the saddest of men, 
Excursionists long for a charming retreat 
And flee from the sultry tumultuous street ; 
They find in these heights and in lakelets hard by 
The wonders of nature which thousands descry. 

IV. 

They bathe in the lakes of its confluent streams, 
And seek the cool forest from sun-piercing beams. 
They pass many hours of summer's long day 
In watching the gold fishes joyous in plajs 
In scanning the rocks in their sand crystal bed. 
Whose pebbly structures have never been read. 
And many a prize from each eddying nook 
Falls prey to the sportsman's decoying hook. 



But beauty and pleasure oft cease to abound. 

As an ice-crystal palace melts down to the ground; 

As a leopard struts forth in his gaudy attire, 

Concealing within him a fiendish desire 

To charm the admiring beasts for his prey 

And bear forth in triumph his victims away; 

So this ocean bound stream proves a source of unrest, 

And oft brings destruction to souls it has blest. 

VI. 

The day was serene and the sun had gone down. 
The shadows of night had enveloped the town. 
When tidings of storms of continuous rain. 
Caused many a sigh from Cochecton's low plain. 

187 



The hour had come to retire to rest 
And many fond hopes were thus timely expressed, 
And the torrent continued within its low bound 
With naught but a muffled and murmuring sound. 

VII. 

Then all at once came a rumble and roar 
As though a great earthquake had shaken the shore, 
And the ice fettered waters from bondage set free. 
Leaped forth as a tempest sweeps over the sea. 
Down with the current a great moving mass, 
Like an avalanche gorging a mountainous pass, 
Urging and surging, crashing and splashing. 
The ice-billows rolled with a thunderous dashing. 

VIII. 

Then came a pause in the ice-burdened stream, 
And the waters rushed back with a terror extreme — 
Flooding the dwellings from cellar to tile. 
Heaping debris in conglomerate pile ; 
And high above tumult and wild breaker's roar. 
Came the piteous cry from the far remote shore, 
Pleading for rescue from house-top and tree. 
And a watery grave in a wintery sea. 

IX. 

Long were the hours of that perilous night. 

In the homes that were formerly happy and bright ; 

While the sun only rose on that heart welcomed mom 

To shine on a modem Venice borne ; 

For the boatmen tarried beside each door, 

Or plied through the cun-ent with plashing oar 

To rescue the helpless from hunger and cold. 

And save from exposure the young and the old. 

X. 

But the saddest burdens his sturdy skiff bore 
Through the surging ice-breakers from shore to shore, 
Was the funeral bier with its soul-smitten train — 
The moumfullest scene on the ice-flooded plain — 
While smote by the tempest and tossed by the wave, 

188 



The mournful procession passed on to the grave 
Breathing a prayer that o'er death's chilling tide, 
In the home where the ransomed forever abide 
That spirits, departed, may joyfully meet 
And from deluge and storm find a blissful retreat. 

Horace Edgar Twichell. 
March, 1887. 



THE IDLEWILD. 

[The following poem has been written for The Journal by 
Horace Edgar Twichell in commemoration of the anniversary 
to-day of the killing of Senator Wagner in the Spuyten Duyvil 
accident. He rode in the palace car "Idlewild."] 

The sun had veiled his beaming face. 

Behind a cloudy, misty sky ; 

The evening gloom, spread 'round the place. 

Caused a shudder or a sigh. 

And many anxious hearts were there. 

Parent, brother, sister, child ; 

To breathe a simple, fervent prayer. 

Centered on the Idlewild ; 

Whose rumbling wheels, in muffled chime. 

Vied with the onward tide of time. 

The mountain peaks were capped with snow. 

The valley wore a carpet white. 

The ice-bound river lay below. 

Fettered by the frosts of night. 

The birds were gone, the trees were bare. 

Their summer nests with flakes were piled, 

And all that trilled the cold, bleak air 

Clamored from the Idlewild ; 

Whose rumbling wheels in muffled chime. 

Vied with the onward tide of time. 

The stranger from a foreign clime. 
The merchant with expectant air. 
The coy maiden in her prime, 
189 



The matron with her silvery hair, 

And bride and groom of but a day 

Are all borne hurriedly away. 

And statesmen join the happy pair, 

Whose gratitude is only smiled ; 

And all a joyous banquet share. 

Inmates of the Idlewild; 

Whose rumbling wheels in muffled chime 

Vied with the onward tide of time. 

The Catskills in their echo trills. 

The highlands in their quick reply 

Wake the vales and shake the hills. 

While the train goes rushing by. 

The gazing peasant draws aside, 

And breathless, yet in accents mild. 

Providence invokes to guide, 

And save the freighted Idlewild ; 

Whose rumbling wheels with muffled chime 

Vied with the onward tide of time. 

The train meanders through the hills. 

Along the peaceful Hudson shore. 

Until the darkness with its ills 

Closes like a mantle o'er. 

The air-brakes on the icy-wheels, 

The mighty engine's frozen breath, 

Seem to baffle all appeals. 

From the tragic hand of death. 

A head-light centered in a flash, — 

Torch of Vulcan fitly styled — 

Dashes with a frightful crash, 

In the fated Idlewild ; 

Whose rumbling wheels in muffled chime. 

Vied with the onward tide of time. 

Let other pens the scene describe, 
Let other hearts the anguish tell, 
But, kindred friends, this thought imbibe. 
Heaven rules and it is well. 
Why should an honored statesman fall, 
190 



And give up life with all its channs, 

And bride and groom, beneath night's pall, 

Perish in each other's arms? 

And why a mother seek in vain, 

To extricate her helpless child. 

And heaven shower not her rain 

Upon the burning Idlewild? 

Whose rumbling wheels in muffled chime, 

Vied with the onward tide of time. 

The fourth bright form was in the flame, 
With chariot from the golden dome; 
The loving Christ in mercy came, 
To bear their franchised spirits home. 



RELICS OF THE WAR. 

By Horace Edgar Twichelx. 

The Empire State, when the war was done. 
Gathered up implements, one by one ; 
Fragments of shackles, both broken and worn. 
Emblems of freedom's most glorious morn ; 
And remnants of weapons in conflict tried. 
To teach our posterity, heroes have died. 

Cannon and musket and sword of the fight ; 

Grape-shot and canister, missiles of might. 

Are brought from the battle-field reddened with blood. 

Where amiies in conflict swept on like a flood, 

Relics of victory rusted and stained. 

Bullet and bomb-shell with missiles enchained. 

Are ploughed from the furrow and picked from the rill, 

And found on the slope of the green Southern hill. 

They 're found in the scars of the mountains and trees, 
In wide spreading valleys, on desolate leas ; 
They're brought irom the plains, where the brave boys lie 
Clad, in earth's mantle, and e'er slumber nigh 
Some broad rolling river or wild ocean's foam. 
Far from their kindred anrl fav frcni their home. 

191 



Safe 'neath the Capitol's towering dome, 

There precious mementoes are given a home. 

Ensigns of liberty, riddled and worn, 

Trophies of victory, shattered and torn. 

Are kept from corrosions of every form, 

And sheltered from blasts of the wild winter stomi ; 

They're furled like the sail, when the tempest is o'er, 

And the storm stranded vessel lies safe by the shore. 

Veteran sire, when thy labor is done 
And low in the West is thy glimmering sun. 
Lead to this bureau thy dutiful child 
And tell him of struggles and conflicts wild ; 
Tell him how slavery darkened our land, 
Until our great nation successfully planned 
To loosen the manacles, sever the chains. 
And blot out America's greatest of stains. 

In through the columns of Gothic design 
Under the arches of Liberty's shrine, 
Beautiful architraves glitter by night. 
Clad in a halo of radiant light ; 
And round them, arcaded on every side, 
Granite walls tower o'er porticoes wide. 

Here is the home of those banners, thus rent. 
Of arms from the battlefield, tools from the tent; 
Fetters with flags lying side by side. 
Symbols of rancor and emblem of pride. 
Here stand the streamers with trimmings of leer; 
Staffs capped with eagle, with halberd or spear; 
Guidons in battle and pennants at sea; 
Ye're shredded and faded, but yet ye are free. 

Standard of liberty, where didst thou wave. 
O'er tumult of battle, o'er rampart or grave.'' 
Where are the patrons that bore thee away. 
And fought 'neath thy shadow to win in the fray.^" 
Where wast thou moistened by dews of the night, 
Whilst shielding the wounded ones borne from the fight? 
Thy course is recorded in traces of war 
By sword and by bullet, on stripe and on star! 

192 



But paramount relics in rank and in hue, 
Grace yonder case; they are garments of blue, 
Garments once worn by a patriot true. 

See the crude rent, where the bullet pierced through 
And slew gallant Ellsworth ; but e'er shall his name 
Re-echo in song, with his unrivaled fame! 
If yon battered button a breast-plate had been, 
And shielded the heart that was beating within ; 
Then might our nation not weep for the brave. 
Slain on the margin of slavery's grave! 

The flag of the Marshall House, stained from his wound. 

Wrapped round his form, when he staggered and swooned, 

Serves a memento, long may it tell 

Motives for which he so valiantly fell. 

Long may they glide on posterity's tide. 

These cherished memorials, side by side ; 

They'll steady the helm in futurity's sea. 

And point out the shoals for the ship of the free. 

The thunder of battle has died from the strand. 
The veil has been lifted which shadowed our land ; 
And in streams the sunshine, the glorious ray. 
That brightens God's future with freedom's glad day. 
All men are equal and all men are free, 
Progress extends o'er the land and the sea ; 
The flag of the Union is hallowed once more, 
From peaceful Pacific to Orient shore. 

State Normal School, Albany. 



EULOGY ON SENATOR WAGNER. 

THE EMPTY CHAIR. 

The chair again is empty, and eyes are filled with tears, 
For one who served the people, as a choice, for many years, 
Death, falling as a thunderbolt, from out a passing cloud. 
Has broken many a circle and frightful furrows plowed. 
Beyond the restless sea of time, another sun has passed, 

193 



But in the blest eteraity the dawn breaks clear and fast. 

Why should such bitter anguish fill the hearts and homes of 

men? 
And why is life a transient dream that ne'er returns again? 

The chair again is empty, but kind and tender hands 

Have twined the crape about its form, a monument it stands, 

And on the Senatorial desk, left vacant in the line, 

Is placed a floral tribute with tendril and with vine. 

This tribute of a woman's love, from nature's treasured store, 

A temporary cenotaph which symbolizes more 

Than pens can write or tongues can tell, deserves the poet's 

lays; 
He should record this ample gift in choicest words of praise. 

The chair indeed is empty and the Senator has gone. 

But cherished is his memory, as time goes rolling on. 

The weary traveler's repose spreads, far and wide, his fame. 

The car, a moving monument, shall memorize his name. 

His voice no more shall echo from the Senatorial walls, 

And his steps no more reverberate, while passing through the 

halls. 
But in the great assembly, where God shall claim his own, 
May the Senate be united and sorrow be unknown. 

The chair at home is empty beside the festal board. 
And sadness seems to hover o'er the treasures of the hoard ; 
Many fond momentoes, spread about the stately hall. 
Bring bitter tears of anguish and of sorrow to them all. 
The circle at the fireside presents a vacant chair ; 
A husband's and a father's loss brings sadness and despair. 
But in the gloom and shadow o'er that sorrow-stricken home, 
May the Light of life eternal, with a beaming splendor come ! 

Horace E. Twichexl, 
State Normal School, Albany. 



COLUMBO EL DORADO. 

From the rocky mountain SUMMIT ever towering in the sky. 
O'er Allegheny's lofty peaks, the eastward echoes fly ; 

194 



Ever wafted bj the night-wind, high above the ocean's roar, 

Till the faint reveberations die upon the eastern shore ; 

Even through the stem Gibraltar, are the echos borne along, 

Till they mingle with the music of an ancient land of song; 

And bear a God-sent message to Italy's dreaming boy, 

A message sent to thrill the world with light and hope and joy. 

For the ardent youth Columbus, pictured laurels on his brow, 
Sailing westward on an ocean, never cleft by keel or prow ; 
And he studied out the message, as the years went rolling by, 
Through the silent constellations, ever changing in the sky. 
It was graven on the sturdy rocks that walled the ocean shore. 
By the chisel of the centuries, a thousand years before ; 
'Twas murmured by the west-wind through many a dreary 

night ; 
'Twas pictured on the lunar disc, in beaming rays of light. 

None had yet interpreted this shadow on the moon, 
Explaining why receding ships should disappear so soon. 
Men failed to read the strata forming crust upon our sphere 
And give a reason why the sun should rise and disappear. 
He saw him like a ball of fire, sink low into the west. 
And hailed his coming in the east with joy unrepressed. 
And with a declaration which did men and Kings astound. 
He proved the orbs were moving and the world itself was round. 

And that by sailing westward round the other side to land. 
He'd reach the gold of Ophar, shunning Asia's burning sand ; 
And Sages and Astronomers sought means to make him prove, 
How people on the other side could really live and move. 
They pitied our Antipodes, each time the world turned round. 
And vowed with buildings tumbling off, destruction would 

abound ; 
The billows too, which clothe the deep would pour of into space; 
And this breach of nature's laws exterminate the race. 

But, patiently, with foi'titude, Columbus braved their sport. 
Submitting all his maps and charts, before the Royal court. 
He pleaded for means and Caravels to put his project through, 
And make a trial voyage to prove his logic true. 
Confiding in the jealous King as in a trusted friend, 

195 



He waited long and patiently, submissive to the end, 
But when he learned the King's deceit in sending secret spies, 
To filch from him his wealth and fame, his all beneath the skies ; 
He sank beneath a broken heart, like Him who had no sin, 
Who claimed a Prophet's honor is not found among his kin. 

But patience and ambition will arouse both heart and brain. 
And he, determined to succeed, betook himself to Spain; 
Seeking alms along the way, he and his oi-phan son. 
Traveled many a weary mile, homeless and undone. 
Just in his need a friend arose, to pave the way between, 
A simple peasant stranger and a high exalted Queen ; 
Who made the declaration, which should echo through the skies, 
"I pledge the jewels of my crown, to this great enterprise." 

This pledge has proved the crowning act of Isabella's reign. 

In gaining great possessions to the government of Spain. 

For in the great discoveries the great Columbus made, 

A continent was given them to mark a new decade. 

And in our day when we explore our rivers and our plains. 

We'll not forget to honor him, who languishing in chains, 

Made such a noble sacrifice to elevate mankind, 

And mom his sad ignoble fate to which he was resigned. 



VIVO SAPIENDS. 

Time sets His impress on the hardest rock. 
And bids it crumble from the mountain side; 

He wears the rock-walled chasm, block from block, 
Until it levels with the ocean tide. 

Thus centuries have wasted ancient Greece, 
And razed her templed cities to the ground ; 

But ages never have in war or peace. 

Dethroned the King of Wisdom she has crowned. 

All learning rears its monumental pile, 
Although 'tis deeply buried or defaced; 

From crumbled column to broken tile. 
The record of a people may be traced. 
196 



Methinks I see this King upon his throne ; 

I view the gems that sparkle from his crown, 
Astounded, that the Grecians stood alone, 

Masters of the arts they've handed down. 

The brightest Star, set in that diadem. 

Is Socrates, a martyr to his theme ; 
A herald, that the Star of Bethlehem, 

Might send upon the world a brighter gleam. 

He gave his time, his talents, gave his all. 
That virtue might inspire the human soul; 

He made Old Athens shake from wall to wall ; 
Nor ceased his power with the fatal bowl. 

Since none can bend the bow of Socrates, 
Nor send conviction's arrow to his mark ; 

Yet Plato, Dionysies agrees. 

Oft sent a scathing philosophic dart. 

A true Disciple of his martyred sire, 

Plato, by a great and master mind. 
Raised the youth from superstition's mire. 

And wisdom art and eloquence, combined. 

Then burst the light from Aristotle's flame 

Which burned the dross of f alacy from truth ; 

As stalking with a philosophic fame. 

His logic oft inspired the Grecian youth. 

Next came the wisdom of the Nazarene, 

When sin and superstitious crime, prevailed. 

And earth was draped in shadow ; then between 
God and his child. He every wrong, assailed. 

He stood a sacrifice for sin ; was slain ; 

The livid Hght around that thorn-pierced brow ; 
Oft men and monarchs would, in wrath, restrain. 

Yet shining ever on ; 'Tis shining now. 

197 



Quintilian graced the ancient courts of Rome; 

And gave the world the Plinys, wise and great, 
Whose pens throw light on Christian martyrdom, 

And many sins and crimes of Church and State. 

Rousseau, the scape-goat, from the field of fame, 
Has given France some precepts for the young; 

And, despite, the "HERMITAGE" of shame ; 
Many songs of praise to him are sung. 

Next Switzerland, a Pestalozzi, gave. 

Who changed the art of teaching in his day ; 

By sending out an Object Lesson wave. 

Which all the powers of Europe could not stay. 

And we'll ne'er forget to honor Horace Mann, 
Who spumed the proffered rank and file of State, 

And through many a well concerted plan ; 

He proved the friend of childhood, true and great. 

The humblest and most esteemed of men, 

He lopped the branches on the tree of Lore; 

And handed down, through rostrum, page and pen, 
The golden fruit of knowledge to the poor. 

We pride in many laurels we have won. 

Where e'er our glorious Flag has been unfurled ; 

In traversing the air, we've just begun. 
An emulation feat against the World. 



THE ABORIGINES. 

We'll take a retrospective of a hundred years or more. 
And view the swarthy Red men on the wild Canadian shore. 
The trees are huge around them by the rivers and the seas, 
And tangled is the forest of the Aborigines. 
They sit beside the wigwam with bow and quiver nigh. 
And listen long in silence for the dreaded Panther cry ; 
They talk about the war path and about the Spirit Land, 
They dance around the council-fire where many a raid is 
planned. 

198 



They worship the Great Spirit of their hunting-ground on 

high, 
Who looks his disapproval in the lightning from the sky. 
His voice is in the thunder, his footsteps in the blast; 
And with joy they greet the rain-bow when his storm of 

wrath has past, 

Long they bum the watch-fire, through the night and through 

the day 
When spirits of departed ones pursue their homeward way; 
That they may cross in safety to the Island of the Blest, 
Where game is never scanty and their weary ones may rest. 
The}^ never there lack wampum, by their fathers they are told ; 
The streams are filled with wampum, the mountains, filled with 

gold. 

They build great lofts of cedar very high above the ground, 
To rock among the tree-tops to their lullalooing sound; 
That here the dead may slumber, on the night of their decease. 
And the Moon may smile upon them and perfect their release. 
And as the blazing camp-fire throws its rays out through the 

gloom ; 
The spirits, on their path-way may be safely lighted home. 
Where all will have young faces and be ever strong and fair; 
And never know of sickness, of sorrow or of care. 

But view again the Red men as around the council-fire. 

They sound their awful war-whoop and display their awful ire ; 

Watch them join the war-dance, with their tomahawks and 

knives, 
And hear their threats of vengeance, which endanger human 

lives. 
They call upon the spirit of their fathers who have died, 
And many 3'ears been buried by the peaceful river side. 
To cheer them on in battle and to help them sla}' their foe ; 
To give them lieart in carnage and to give them joy in woe. 
The pipe of peace is buried which has fumed for many years. 
Their scalping-knivcs are ready with their tomahawks and 

spears ; 
And they hasten through the forest under cover of the night. 
To invade the distant Minisink, before the morning light ; 

199 



Tracing many a winding river, and crossing swamp and swail, 
This band of savage warriors, haste along the hunter's trail. 

While thus the stealthy bandits make their way through grove 

and glen 
Out through the thickest darkness, over river, glade and fen ; 
Within the peaceful hamlet by the forest hedged around, 
Where naught disturbs their slumber but the baying of the 

hound. 
The Woods-man, in exhaustion from his toil the day before, 
Sleeps soundly, where he wrought to keep privation from his 

door. 

The matron, too, is sleeping with the cradle by her side. 
Where lie the buds of promise, for her future joy and pride; 
So near that she can rock them, should she hear their wakeful 

cries 
And soothe them back to slumber, with aifection's lullabys. 
And sweetly sleeps the maiden on her pillow, snowy white. 
The lovely coy young maiden locked in slumber for the night. 
I fancy she is dreaming of the spinning-wheel or loom. 
Or possibly of childhood e'er her youth put on its bloom. 
But dreams are only echoes of the toilsome day before, 
Where by much perplexing efforts, we perform some labor o'er, 
Her dreams may be but dramas where each lover plays his part, 
To win his coy young maiden closer to his throbbing heart. 
Here innocence and beauty are perceptibly combined, 
Where smiles are but the gestures of a speculative mind. 
Thus sleeps the weary maiden within her father's cot, 
Knowing naught of her suiTounding or of what may be her lot. 

Thus the little hamlet, far from city and from town, 
Environed by the mountains and the forest green and brown ; 
Sleeps sweetly 'mid the music of the dashing mountain streams 
In the aiTns of Morpheus, the ancient God of dreams. 

But what a change comes o'er them to awaken fears of harm. 
As the watch-dog from the kennel sounds the tocsin of alarm ! 
For news has reached the settlement from far Cochecton plain, 
That Brant, the Indian raider treads the war-path once, 
again ; 

200 



Stealthily intruding long before the morning light, 
And firing many a dwelling to illuminate the night; 
Surrounding many a peaceful hurd and many a captive prize, 
And drives them all before him, despite their pleading cries. 

O, picture consternation, when the flames are rolling high, 
And think what dreadful anguish in awaking but to die. 
With burning homes be'hind them and a savage foe before, 
The victims flee in terror or die beside their door. 

Let us trust that Gracious Heaven made a Home for such as 

these, 
Who perished by the scalping-knife, among the rocks and trees ; 
Or sacrificed their life-blood, on the sanguinary field. 
Where the fate of many Heroes was disastrously sealed. 

Horace E. Twicheli^ 



THE MYSTERIOUS INDIAN MAIDEN. 

A Lyric Poem. (Tune — Gentle Zitella.) 

I roamed through the forest. 

One morning in May, 

Where the brook gave its music, 

And the song bird his lay ; 

Where the wild deer went bounding 

And the wolf had his lair. 

The echoes resounding. 

Broke forth on the air. 

I spied wreaths of flowers. 

And ferns incomplete, 

And close by the brookside. 

Clear traces of feet. 

I roamed on the hillside 
I roamed through the glen. 
And close by the lakeside 
Returning again. 
I there saw a maid 
Weaving plumes in her hair ; 
201 



The lake was her mirror, 
And the moss-rock, her chair, 
Her dark face, reflected, 
Looked up from below, 
'Twas sadly neglected, 
Gave traces of woe. 

I said, lonely maiden, 
"Why do you roam?" 
*'Have you no kindred. 
Have you no home?" 
With her eyes cast above her, 
She shuddered and sighed, 
"In this forest, my lover 
Was wounded and died." 
"He fell while he stood, 
Between me and the grave; 
The Great Spirit called him. 
My true hearted brave." 

Four moons have gone. 

Since I stood on this shore; 

And I'm listening still. 

For the splash of his oar ; 

For he promised me true 

He'd bear me away. 

In his shinning canoe. 

To the charms of that wildwood. 

The Great Spirit blest 

Where again, in our childhood. 

We ever shall rest. 



THE SULLIVAN COUNTY PIONEER. 

In the quaint old exploration days. 
When Sullivan, in years was young; 

And Jefferson, a theme of praise. 
Extolled by every tongue ; 

The woodsman plunged in the forest, drear. 

And became the Sullivan pioneer. 
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He felled the logs that walled him in, 
With boughs and bark he sheltered him; 
And with his rifle and his hound, 
Set out upon his perilous round. 

Through clump and thicket, swamp and swail, 
His trusty gun would never fail. 
To drop the bird, the hare, the deer, 
The meat of the early pioneer. 

At night a back-log blazing warm, 
Asuaged the terror of the storm; 
While from the antlei's, venison, dried. 
Hung by the rustic chimneyside. 

The storm is raging fierce without ; 

The wolf and bear prowel about ; 

With panther music in his ear. 

He seeks his couch — the pioneer. • 

At early dawn through frosty air. 
We see him to his toil repair; 
We see him by the Giants stand. 
With the foe of the forest in his hand; 
With dexterous skill and able stroke. 
He battles with the sturdy oak. 
And where the savages cease to roam. 
He builds his rustic future home. 
His ax re-echoing shrill and clear ; 
The music of the pioneer. 

Where the Redman's wigwam stood. 
Concealed within the tangled wood ; 
The white man by unceasing toil. 
Subdues the hard and sterile soil. 
With Mother Nature as his aid, 
To fit the soil for share and spade ; 
The earth enwrapped in drifting snow. 
Protects the sleeping embryo. 
The frost sinks deep down in the earth. 
To give the sleeping germ its birth, 
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He suffered many ills in life, 
Cold and hunger, toil and strife, 
Yet desires to trust and fear, 
The God of the struggling pioneer. 

He sees the Father's reprimand, 
The chastening rod — uplifted hand; 
And yet he knows the parent true. 
Chides the child and loves him too. 
Although the tree lies shattered, bare, 
The thunder-bolt has cleansed the air. 
And torrents, after thunders peal. 
Turns the miller's power-wheel; 
Transforming beech and birch and pine; 
As though it were hy hand Divine, 
Into dwellings far and near, 
The pride of the early pioneer. 

To-day we rank equally great, 

With sister counties of our State ; 

The forest cleared of rock and tree; 

Becomes the green-sward of the free. 

'Tis due to our forefathers skill. 

Their work, their patience and good will 

We owe them more than we can pay ; 

Were we to live as long as they. 

We praise and honor with right good cheer, 

The deeds of the Sullivan pioneer. 



THE HUNTING SCENE. 

What's that I see on yonder plain? 

Bounding toward yon sheltered glen.'' 
It is a herd of deer, with might and main. 

We'll hasten out and after them. 

Let the hounds from yonder kennel free, 
And hurry, Jack, you are so very slow; 

You try my patience so and worry me ; 
Is this my horn and pouch? Let's go. 
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We'll call for neighboi' Brown and Ross, 
To stand on runways three and four; 

Because the herd is sure to cross, 

Just where they often crossed before. 

Heigh, Brown, Heigh, Ross, Come hurry here; 

Bring your dog and loaded gun, 
We've seen, just through the glen, some deer, 

We'll go and surely capture one. 

The}' 're coming; Bruce is in the lead. 

Now, John, you take the hounds and drive; 
And make the ver}^ best of speed. 
Just show us all that you're alive. 

Say, Brown, the sight we just have seen. 
Two pretty fawns a buck and doe. 

Went round that knob, and just between 
Those lofty trees that form that row. 

Now, Brown, they'll surely come this way, 
I'll stand you here on this high ground; 

And do not get excited, pray 

There, Hark ! I hear the hound. 

That's Bruce, I know his ringing bark, 
Ross, run to yonder rock and stand; 

And let me se your skill now, hark, 
Have you a stud}^ hand.? 

BANG! BANG! He never touched a hair. 

Now steady, Ross a chance for you ; 
With gun aimed straight up in the air, 

Ross fires at random too. 

The deer bound back across the plain. 
Unharmed by nothing more than fright; 

And Brown and Ross, like two insane. 
Come running in with all their might. 



205 



Why, Brown, your bullet struck the sky; 

And Ross yours struck right m this tree; 
I heard your miscle whizzing by. 

As if 't were meant for me. 

All of us should blush with shame, 

When taunted by what we have done ; 

You both forgot to take good aim. 
But I forgot I had a gun. 



THE BATTLE OF MINISINK. 

The dawn breaks fair, the sun appears, 

The forest trees are bowed in tears ; 

As to each bow, the mist adheres. 

The cloud-wreathed mountain towering nigh, 

With old Mount Sepulchre, hard by; 

Is listening for the battle cry. 

The soldiers, inishing to the fray, 
Ascend the steep and rocky way; 
And take their stand, without delay. 
They left the store, the bar, the bench. 
The plain with human blood to drench, 
And strike a blow in home defense. 

A blow to set the captive free, 
A blow to Britain's high decree ; 
A blow from every rock and tree. 
The savage war-whoop rends the air. 
The bullets through the branches tear; 
And drives the wild beast from his lair. 

And beneath that July sun, 
Hungry, thirsty, every one; 
They fought until the day was done. 
And many a sire recalled his past. 
While listening for the rifle blast. 
As on the sun he looked his last. 

206 



For his comrades faltered, reeled, 
A savage foe swept o'er the field ; 
And he knew his doom was sealed. 
Great praise is due the Colonel, brave, 
Who sacrificed his life to save 
His wounded comrades from the grave. 

But a stigma blots the name 

Of Brant, the Chief of Mohawk fame. 

Which should make him cringe with shame. 

E'er the field was fairly won, 

His darkest deeds of death were done, 

His race of blood was nearly run. 

Night closed in upon the scene 

The stars of heaven shone out serene ; 

The moon looked through a silvery sheen, 

Upon the writhing heaps of slain. 

Upon the captive in his chain. 

Upon the chieftain's darkest stain. 



207 



JUl. ox i^\f' 



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